


How Could You Have Forgotten?

by Bornofpepperoni



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Anger Management, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Eventual Smut, Knight!Mark, LGBTQ Themes, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of Starvation, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Peasant!Ethan, Period-Typical Homophobia, Prince!Mark, Prisoner of War, Servant!Ethan, Slow Burn, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 60,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bornofpepperoni/pseuds/Bornofpepperoni
Summary: Ethan knew it would happen one day. The looks his family gave him day after day left no room for other suggestions. He wasn't particularly strong so he knew he wouldn't go for a high price. He figured he would be given to some Lord or perhaps to a farmer somewhere in exchange for the financial security of his family. His friends had already been sold off, so he knew it was only a matter of time. He always knew it was coming, how could he have forgotten?
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 308
Kudos: 501





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! After being devastated by the end of Unus Annus, I am writing this as my own comfort fic. Any feedback or comments are always accepted! This fic will be rather long hopefully, so just a warning. Finals are coming up but I am going to try to update this semi-regularly. Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

In the beginning it was just the next thing to come. It loomed but never enough to where he couldn’t think of anything else. It was a fact, especially in the position he was born. It was inevitable, so he enjoyed the time he had every chance he could. Ethan was close to his mother, his older brother Andrew already gone to work for a farmer somewhere further in the country. His mother always spoke so highly of Andrew, especially when his wages finally were sent to help the family survive. Soon it would be Ethan’s turn just like Andrew.

They lived just outside the inner city of Utheral, the dirty ring clinging to the edge of the circular city like an infection; or at least that’s how those inside the walls made it out to be. To Ethan, it wasn’t all that bad. They lived in a small shack with two other families, their children much younger than Ethan, even when they first moved in a decade prior when he was only 8. He slept on the floor, the dirt caked into the wood planks there always staining his cheek a light brown in the morning, but he was always warm and cared for. His childhood friend Sean lived in the shack next door with two other families just like Ethan. Since they were both 8, Sean and Ethan were next to inseparable, but Sean knew what was coming just like Ethan did.

It was two weeks before Ethan’s 18th birthday that Sean was sent off. They hugged by the stables for what felt like eons. The sky was threatening another burst of rain to make worse the mud underneath their tattered shoes. “I’m heading south. Rifton actually,” Sean spoke softly, his arms still tightly around his best friend. 

“Rifton? By God’s bones Sean, Rifton is falling apart at the seams right now!” Ethan’s rag was only muffled by his mouth being pressed into Sean’s shoulder. He knew this day would come. He hated every second of not being the one to leave first.

“I know Ethan, I know.” Sean pulled away but kept his arms around Ethan’s elbows. They were waiting for his carriage to arrive now, but the shelter and privacy the stable offered for now wasn’t ideal. “It's a lord. I can make good money for my mother, and if I make enough, mother would be able to send those girls we shack with to get a proper education with enough savings.”

“Sounds like ma’am to spend the wages on others.” Ethan laughed, wiping the snot running down his face with his sleeve. The sleeves were dirty and made more of a mess than they cleaned up but he didn’t care. 

Sean gave a small smile, blue eyes scrunching up as thin as they do before the sounds of horse trotting could be heard not far off. “This isn’t goodbye Ethan, we will find eachother again after my indenturement is over. Then we can get back to life.”

“10 years Sean,” Ethan murmured, the impossibility and frankly the size of the nation making Sean’s sentiment fall utterly stale in his hands. “I hope I can learn to share the sentiment. If you ever get a chance to visit again, ask my mother where I was sent. Maybe we can find a way to write eachother.”

The carriage, small and rundown, was pulling up with the large brown horse taking charge. Ethan wasn’t the tallest, falling only a few inches above most ladies he knew, so large animals often made him anxious despite his innate fascination with them. He would admire from a distance to say the least. “This isn’t goodbye,” Sean repeated sternly before yanking Ethan in for a second, much shorter hug. “I will see you before you know it Ethan.”

The words were empty again, the wish and optimism there but well ill-placed. Sean was awful at writing, but if they found a way to send letters, he’d suffer deciphering the message to speak to his friend once more. Eventually, the two men pulled away, Sean ruffling the others hair before situating his small hat on his head and was ushered into the carriage by a large burly man with a trimmed beard. Rifton. He wasn’t going to last two weeks in Rifton. The sequence of Sean saying his final goodbye to Ethan standing alone in the sprinkling rain under a dilapidated stable was a complete blur. It was surreal. He always knew it was coming. This wasn’t a surprise but god it felt like he had never truly prepared for the moment life as he knew it was over.

He would be off in just two weeks now. Maybe he would end up in Rifton too, living out his indenturement for the next 20 years barely surviving as he does now. At least he has his mother and father. Ethan eventually moved when his shirt was nearing soaked, his shoes feeling as though they were full of stones cementing him to one spot unable to move. He kept moving until he was home, the detail drained from the world once he reality truly set in after all these years. It wasn’t hell. It was sad, but it wasn’t his entire life and between him and Andrew his parents could live somewhere better than the dirty ring of Utheral. They had never even been inside the city, the towering stone walls reached further than anyone could ever hope to see over, and the wooden enforced gate was heavily guarded given it being the only entrance. The outer ring made it look like an eyesore, but those that have been inside the city have spoken wonders.

The ragged stone and dirt paths that wind through the outer ring apparently turns to a smooth cobblestone inside the gates. The wooden shacks falling apart and caked with centuries of dirt and rot, turn to rich wood planks with actual floors other than dirt and the occasional rotting plank. Their roofs didn’t leak with the incoming rain or snow, they were warm with fireplaces and heavy wool blankets. The fantasy of a life greater than his distracted him from the loss long enough for him to carry himself through the paths he had seen all of his life. He would be getting away from everything he had always known, but maybe he would eventually get away. He could see himself in a big city, maybe he could work his way up to live comfortably in the country. He could take a wife like his father always told him about, and perhaps he could even make Sean live besides him like they had done all these years. 

Ethan was a dreamer, his mother said the sparkle in his eyes was her own source of optimism at times. He felt defeated, even now as he entered into his shack, the two girls 10 and 11 respectively immediately hugging him before running away and giggling to their own mother. Despite this feeling, he needed a brave face, especially with his poor mother desperately trying to find a place where Ethan would be treated properly. She cared deeply for both him and Andrew, and Ethan wanted to make sure he made her proud and never lost that sparkle.

“How was your farewell to young Sean?” His mother called out, folding the dried laundry that had been removed from the line outside before the rain. 

“Well, he is to go to Rifton. A lord apparently.” His mother grimaced a bit after hearing Rifton, but the ladder of the facts brought a bit of her spirits up. Ethan gave a grimace of his own, eyebrows scrunched but more in a manner of conveying the same feelings his mother was. 

“Sean is a strong boy. His mother would make sure to send him to the nicest option she had.” Not that she had many options, Ethan noted mentally. “You best be helping your father with supper. Wage from your brother came in, so your father is across town getting a chicken for tonight. I still need a loaf of bread, go to him for the coins.” His mother looked a lot like him, the lines in her forehead after years of stress were something already beginning to form on his own forehead. The boy nodded his head, rubbing his arms over his soggy sleeves and shivered a second. His mother scanned him over for a second before grabbing a thin overcoat and draping it over her son's shoulder. He wasn’t much taller than her, but the resemblance was almost uncanny despite her blonde hair rivaling the brown he obtained from his father. 

“Don’t be too long alright?” There was a tone of worry, though he wasn’t quite sure where it originated from. Ethan simply nodded and briefly gave his mothers hand a squeeze. There was no silence inside the shack itself, the girls playing with sticks tied with thread and the raining dripping inside from the holes in the roof, but there was a moment of silence between his mother and himself. Something was wrong. Electing to ignore it, Ethan took off without anything other than a polite smile and a wave to the girls who giggled and waved back quickly from their shared blanket on the dirt floor. 

The rain hadn't picked up quite yet, but Ethan found himself pulling the thin coat tighter around his small frame, shivering but walking towards where the market was around the otherside of the ring. It was quite a walk along the perimeter, especially given the sheer size of Utheral as a kingdom, but he should be back no later than dusk if he was able to find his father in time. As he walked past the more heavily populated residencies in the ring, he watched the elderly on the porch watch him as he walked. They weren’t a tight community, not everyone knew each other and people often came and went, but there were familiar faces. Those faces, though often not associated with a name, stared at Ethan as he walked past, he only offered a small sheepish smile before hurrying his pace to get further away. 

The market was loud. PIgs squealing, chickens screaming, and everything past that. The blacksmith was busy forging swords and the tailor was busy fixing holes in clothes of those with enough to afford repairs. Nobody cared who you were unless you had some coins to spare, it was a greedy system but what else were they left with. Ethan dodged the people rushing around to gather their own supper and supplies, standing on his toes occasionally in an attempt to see above the later afternoon crowd to spot his father. The Nelson’s always gave his father a discount, Sir Nelson and his own father had served indenturement together so they had a very close pact. Ethan remembered the dinners spent with them and occasionally talking to their daughter Amy before she was given the opportunity to be an apprentice tailor for the royal family in Utheral. He should’ve written her to ask what it was like.

As he made his way over Nelson's coop, he spotted his father immediately in heated discussion with Sir Nelson. “Do you think they would take him?” He heard his father say in a rushed tone. Neither had spotted Ethan yet, the boy immediately turning around to pretend to be interested in the cows sold adjacent to the chickens. 

“That’s the word benign passed right now. Prince Mark is coming of age and the king is ill once more, they are looking for younger help. It’s worth a try Nestor.” Sir Nelson said, resting his hand on his father’s shoulder. Ethan kept glancing over his shoulder to witness all of this before he eventually decided it would be furth disrespectful to eavesdrop. His mind hadn’t even started the process of racing yet.

Ethan made his way over, grateful for having not been spotted. Mr.Nelson recognized him first and gave a large smile, “Is it not the young Nestor himself!” Ethan’s father turned around then to see his son soon stand awkwardly behind him.

“Hello Ethan,” His father said, reaching immediately into his pocket. Ethan held out his hand for the coins that quickly dropped into his palm. His mother must have told him she would send him after he parted ways with Sean. Ethan nodded thankfully, placing the coins in a bag tied around his belt loop. “Let the baker know we would like to place an order for two loaves for two weeks from now. We want to make sure we can get them for supper before you leave. The coins are all there.” Ethan didn’t make a step to move, simply staring up at his father and nodding. He looked closer to his mother than his father, their hair matched but their eyes and height difference made it a funny sight to see. His father hasn’t held the same tight expectations as many other fathers did over their sons, he had been nothing but supportive to Ethan. 

“Will you be returning soon?” Ethan asked, ready to head off in the direction he knew the baker would be. 

“I have a bit to discuss with Sir Nelson here, but I will return soon. If you return before I, let your mother know I will only be shortly behind.” Ethan nodded, taking off without another word. Now his head could spin. The Prince? Younger help? They couldn’t honestly believe the royals would take on him for indenturement? He was frail and weak, no use for lifting heaving armor. The Prince was a knight as word gets around, so he would be of no use. The realism of the situation was too heavy to even consider a fantasy of living inside the walls. Maybe he would even get to see Amy again. His head couldn’t even entertain the idea, it was absolutely outlandish in all regards. 

Ethan found himself in a state of disarray, eyebrows furrowed and head swarming. His mother’s hidden anxieties, his father’s possible scheming to get him into Utheral, all of this was so much to think about for such a short journey to retrieve bread. By the time he had walked through the ring enough to get the baker, walking through the main hub again and turning left at the blacksmiths, the rain had begun to pour heavy. Soggy bread was not ideal. He entered the somehow sound building, and purchased the bread for today as well as for the further order. The baker took the money promptly, ushering Ethan off from the store until the bread had finished baking. Ethan stood outside, standing underneath what little coverage a piece of roof that had slid down gave. Ethan entertained the idea that getting away wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe even Rifton wouldn’t be this bad, even with their stories of war and rumors of corrupt leadership. Whether it be with a lord or with a farmer in the country like Andrew, he wanted to be away from where the air smelled of dried pig and the ringing of a blacksmith hitting an anvil didn’t make him want to plug his ears. 

Five or so minutes later the bread was done and the order officially placed for two loaves in two weeks as well. Sliding the bread into his jacket and once again pulling it tight, he sprinted off home in the rain. He would definitely be having a very chilly night in the soaking clothes. Ethan was always fast on his feet, his thin frame giving him great agility; this was particularly useful especially when running home with bread shoved into your coat. He was home some odd time later, panting and glad the exercise at least warmed him up from the bone shaking cold. His mother held open the door and gently took the preserved bread from his as he peeled the tattered coat from his skin. His hair was slicked to his forehead but he didn't really care as he stripped from his shirt to a cleaner one his mother had folded from before he left.

“I will make the stew once your father returns, stand by the fire to warm up for now Ethan.” His mother said softly, wiping the matted hair from his eyes before he stood up to walk to the corner of the room they had made a kitchen of sorts in. 

“Ethan?” The small voice of a young girl rang from behind him after he curled up next to the fire. He turned his head to see Rohesia, walking shly over to sit beside the fire with him. “Are you leaving?” She asked before he could acknowledge her initially.

He gave a small smile and short laugh that sounded more like a heavy breath than anything else, “Not yet Rohesia, but unfortunately soon.”

She frowned and seemed to be in thought too, as much as a 11 year old can anyway. “How long will you be gone?” She was just now learning about what her future would be. She would watch children older than her slowly leave and soon she’d lose her own Sean. She has been told, but she didn’t know yet. In all fairness, he hardly did either.

“A long time,” His saddened smile still painted lightly on his face as he glanced over at her. “Not forever.” 

She seemed to take this into consideration, silent but seemed okay with the answer. “Where do you think you’ll be going?” She certainly was talkative tonight. 

Ethan sighed but shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. God only knew. The conversation with Sir Nelson and his father rang like a secret in his head. Wishful thinking. Ethan was always a dreamer. “I don’t know yet. Once they know I’ll be told, and I’ll have to prepare. Then once I’m 18, I’m gone.” Rohesia nodded, staring at her folded hands and comprehending as much as she can. She was smart, and at 11 she understood the concept of loss. “I’ll be back.” She nodded again. That wasn the end of the conversation.

True to his word, his father came home not too long after and for a man soaked in rain, he looked half near ecstatic. Ethan watched him rush his mother with an excitement rarely seen in the outer ring. Did this have to do with the conversation from before? The dead chicken was thrown on the table but was paid no attention as his mother was dragged away in an excited and rushed conversation. He watched over his shoulder the stages of emotion on her face from confusion, to skepticism, to a small gleam of hope his mother had hardly shown. 

It was rude to watch and strain to hear a conversation he was not invited into, but he was anxious and knew it had to pertain to him. The days felt like walking on gravel without shoes, avoiding the places that seemed like they would cost the most pain. He felt his hands shaking and hadn’t noticed his mother return after he conversation, grey dress flowing a bit behind her as she walked. “Ethan darling, stay close to the fire you’re shivering.” He was warm now, but he wouldn’t let her know. He gave a small smile, a signature move of his today, and returned to staring at the fire while his mother side-stepped him to continue her stew. Rohesia had returned to play with her younger sister and the world became Ethan and the flames he stared into.

“Ethan,” his father called, breaking him from his fixed gaze into the flames. As he looked up, his father gestured for him to go over, the young boy obediently obliging and making his way to the wooden table in the back left corner near their blanket cots. “I need to inform you of something.” Here it is, Ethan grimaced. This has to be where he finds out, or is given official false hope to cling to. Ethan sat down across his father, the wooden chair groaning and poking his back in an uncomfortable fashion. Once he was seated, his father folded his arms over the top of the table and took a small sigh, but one of pent up excitement rather than distress. “I entered your name in the chance to serve your indenturement with the royal family.” 

Ethan hadn’t made a croak of a noise yet. “What does this mean?” His father nodded, seeming to understand the necessity of the question.

“Tomorrow you will be taken to the gates, you and however many other boys and girls have been entered. They are hiring three on the spot. This will be before your 18th birthday, but please understand your mother and I care deeply for you but this is an opportunity unlike any other.” His father was right. He would have to leave his life early, but no other chance would ever present itself like that. Tomorrow would be the last day if he were to be chosen. The thought of Sean leaving crossed his mind again, and that hopeful part of his brain spiked up in full force.

“Who will be choosing? Would I leave that day?” Ethan began to bombard his father with questions, both excited and scared, and the older man simply laughed and told Ethan to calm down.

“Prince Mark will be making the selections himself. You would have your bag with you in case you get chosen. There won’t be a goodbye, you will simply have to go. We will sign the indenturement and you will be gone.” That sounded significantly more depressing but Ethan couldn’t help some glee in his stomach. He would get to see Utheral. He would be able to provide double what Andrew was able to. He needed to try. Ethan was an awful loser and would be crushed if not selected, but he needed to try. Ethan nodded vigorously to confirm he agreed with the decision.

“I am glad. I think you have a very good shot. We’ll let you wear my dress clothes so you can make a fine impression on the Prince tomorrow.”

“Father, I couldn’t possibly.” Ethan shook his head, those clothes cost nearly an entire month's wage from Andrew.

“Nonsense, you’ll be able to provide twice the clothing quality once you’re up in the city.” Ethan and his father shared a small smile and the quick worry was smothered again by the butterflies of excitement in his stomach. He should have figured he couldn’t simply not become hopeful for such a thing to happen to him. Afterall, Ethan was a dreamer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I hope you guys enjoy! Reminder: this will likely be 50 chapters and will be lengthy. Not all will be slow burn, but the smut will be VERY MUCH later so bookmark if you want to come back when its done!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3 Thank you for support. Also! I got the title of this fic from Someone Else's Sky (another fanfic on here) and so credit goes to them and also please go read it, it do be straight fire. Once again this isn't super proofread, so all mistakes are my own and I hope you enjoy! Also, I didn't expect to push this one out so fast so uh, hope its good!

Ethan was convinced it was already a bad start as he hardly got a wink of sleep all night, daydreaming about the possibilities to come. The futures he could experience if only he were chosen. In all frankness, Ethan knew nothing about Prince Mark other than he was a skilled swordsman and heir to the throne. Mark was 19 to Ethan's 18, but other than that the boy knew very little else. The royals kept a tight lid on most matters regarding their own personal lives outside of their rulership. 

His mother certainly wasn’t having an ounce of it as she brushed his hair with a rigorous force only an impatient mother would have. “You may be stepping into a new world today Ethan. You need to have your best foot forward.” It was a phrase he had been hearing all morning. The bags under his eyes and dirt smeared to the side of his face like every morning still gave him a sickly appearance. He was still excited, but his own reflection in the broken mirror wasn’t a sight to behold. His cheeks were sunken in like everyones, his wrists the size of his right finger, and his hair was slicked back as if that were to make him more presentable. 

The realism from the day before hit again, reminding Ethan who he was even as he buttoned up his fathers dress shirt that was far too baggy. His mother took a damp rage of rain water and smeared it across Ethan’s face, collecting what dirt she could swiftly. “It’s a walk to the main gate, you best be off with your father quickly.” The urgency from before stopped, her wiping with the rag on the dirt of his knuckles paused a moment. 

Ethan took his free hand and rested it atop hers. It was a faster goodbye, much sooner than they had planned, but it was necessary. “This isn’t goodbye.” The words felt more like Sean’s from the day before than they did his own. “I’d be just inside the walls. Much closer than Andrew.” His mother gave a tearful nod but the tears never slipped out. Ethan was the last of her children and saying goodbye was a heavy farewell to the life she had led for many years, but they would find her given her health remained well. Andrew and him worked to make sure she was okay. Maybe Ethan could work enough to where his own children wouldn’t have to abandon what they know for indenturement. His mother resumed the last of her straightening up and cleaning before giving a small nod and ushering him to stand up from the stool he was perched on.

“Off with you then, may God guide you still.” A kiss on the forehead from his mother and he was truly off this time. His father waited by the door, eager but with his back straight and head held high. Ethan was beginning to think this was a bigger deal for them than it was for himself. His father greeted him with ruffling up the hair his mother had just slicked back and they were off. Ethan spent the time walking folding up the baggy shirt so it fit his frame better, rolling the hems of his pants whenever they came to a momentary standstill. Avoiding the mud beneath his feet was a rather difficult task the further they walked. He had only ever walked to the gate when he was younger, always fascinated by the walk of life just through the door. Now he wouldn’t have to wonder. Wishful thinking, Ethan realized, but he couldn’t help be somewhat optimistic. 

They passed by several other boys with their fathers. They were all dressed in varying degrees of quality but they all looked equally as optimistic and terrified as Ethan felt. They walked a bit faster, unsure of what was to happen but in hopes to possibly obtain a good standing position. Ethan passed by two of his neighbors, Bob and Wade which he didn’t hesitate to wave vigorously at. The two boys were already 18 and unable to find an indenturement yet, so Ethan found himself hoping they too would find themselves selected. Three people would be selected. The Prince had changed his request from both genders to only males so the litter had at least been slimmed somewhat. By the time they swerved through the roads and eventually found themselves at the gates, mud caked everyone’s shoes, the hems of Ethan’s dress pants drenched a deep brown despite his best efforts. His father didn’t seem to mind.

The royal guards were already there, their silver chainmail shining the brightest color Ethan had seen in months. The outer ring was always a mix of dark browns and murky greys. They lined up the boys in a semicircle, like criminals lined for the hanging. That was the feeling in the atmosphere, the only ones talking being the knights directing everyone into a curved line and the horses rustling tied to the posts around. There were 20 or so knights, hands on their sheathed weapons standing behind the lined boys like an armoured fencepost. There were so many of them, easily 75. Ethan was unfortunately among the last to arrive but given the perimeter of the gate being so large, they were still only in a single line. Ethan’s father gave him one final squeeze and ushered him to the large man directing the boys into the final stretch of the line. He was so far from the center. Ethan let the man clothes in white and gold pull him into his place and soon the rushing and the moving stopped.

With his hands balled at his sides, Ethan tried to regulate his breathing. His mind was racing and he couldn’t focus on whether to stay alert or calm down and relax. It was a conflict on most fronts, but his restlessness standing in that line was constant. Glancing around, he spotted Bob and Wade not too far from him, only two or so boys down the line to his left. Seeing someone familiar in the crowd was a miracle regardless. Wade was tall and built a bit stronger than the others and Bob was the same. They had a good chance. Ethan didn’t quite know what services he would be providing outside the fact that the Prince needed servants. Soon, his questions would be answered. 

The gate creaked, the gears concealed inside the walls screaming as they worked to pull back the doors. Ethan held his breath without thinking about it, eyes glued to the slow moving of the doors. They weren’t pulled back enough to where he could see inside from his position; they opened enough for three figures to emerge and it wasn’t hard to spot the Prince out of three of them. Two elderly men in bright white silk robes followed behind, shuffling with their faces concealed, but the Prince’s face was as visible as the daylight itself had it not been concealed behind another spurt of rain clouds. 

The Prince didn’t look to be much taller than Ethan himself, but the way he walked and carried himself convinced him of the exact opposite. Ethan, as well as everyone’s eyes, were glued to Mark like a leech in the swamp. He wasn’t dressed like a Prince today, his knight’s armour bulking his frame to be wide and bulky. The Prince stopped once he was close to the center of the semicircle, not too far from the gate itself. His black hair was down to his shoulders, framing his eyes to where Ethan couldn’t see. No words had yet passed as if everyone else were holding their breath as well. He took a sharp 90 degree turn, content to start at the opposite end of the line. His anxiety grew knowing he was to be the last to look at, making his chances slim to none. Ethan could only stand up straight and pretend he was confident despite the shaking in his thin bones. 

The Prince was either extremely slow or had an eye for detail, both continued to annoy him slightly as the time dragged on. The clouds began to disappear making the warmth of the sun his Ethan’s back and sting the back of his neck. He dismissed the boys as he walked, no words passing as he waved away the ones unfit for him. An hour or so later, by Ethan’s estimates, 75% of the crowd had been dismissed without a single person chosen. He could make out more details of Mark now, but the details remained the same. His brown eyes reminded him of the pictures of the King’s, the same sternness found in the young Prince’s as well. Helmet under his right arm, his chainmail clattered with every step, making his movements loud and for all to hear. Ethan was too scared to turn around now, but he wondered if his father was somewhere in the crowd behind watching. Eventually, the first boy was chosen. Wade’s eyes widened and his mouth opened but there was no time to talk. A knight standing behind simply grabbed Wade by the arm and before anyone could blink he was beyond the gate. Just like that. Ethan found himself with a small smiling knowing he was correct. Bob wasn’t chosen, being waved off after a moment’s deliberation. Ethan looked out the corner of his eye, watching briefly the two boys standing beside him that remainder as his barricade from royalty. 

The sweat from the sun’s heat as well as the anxiety shook even as the Prince finally stood mere inches from Ethan. His eyes were much more stern than the King’s once he could see that close, the beard stubble on his chin much more apparent now. Strands of his hair had been tied up now, likely due to the heat, but overall Ethan wasn’t shocked by anything. The Prince was handsome, but the slightly crooked angle of his nose was a bit of an eye sore. Ethan found some of his anxiety melting away knowing Mark wasn’t an ethereal creature like the stories always made the entire royal family out to be. 

Mark scanned Ethan with thin eyes, tilting his head slightly as he took in what Ethan could only imagine was his sickly frame and small appearance. For a moment, they locked eyes, which was exactly the opposite of what Ethan had wanted to do but it was too late now. No words passed yet but something changed. His arms stopped shaking like a wet and starving dog in the woods, and he simply stood there completely at the mercy of what his fate could be. The state of calm was immediately disrupted by being pulled forward by the knight behind him. He had never even seen Mark raise his hand. Suddenly he was moving toward the gate and his gut was screaming at him that he did it. He looked around frantically at where he was going and lastly to find his father in the crowd. The knight pulled harder as Ethan tried to slow down to look behind him, but right as he disappeared through the opening in the gate, he caught the last small smile from his father he would see in a long while; and it was full of grief, but not of losing his son. He looked like he just sent his son to war. There was no time for questions. No time to ask why his father looked so guilty and why he looked so upset. He was dragged into the next ten years of his life in complete silence.

\------------------

They weren’t dragged far inside. The knights brought him to another elderly man in a white robe like the two outside the gate with the Prince. Wade was also there, looking just as startled and frankly uncomfortable as Ethan felt. This was supposed to be exciting, why did this feel like he was a chicken selected from the Nelson's coop. Neither dared to speak but they both looked at eachother with the same deep level of confusion. Waiting for the third and final to be selected, Ethan took the time to look around. Him and Wade both turned in a semicircle of their own, examining the entrance to a world they had never laid eyes on before. They were right about the roads, Ethan noted first and foremost. There wasn’t a pit or a rough patch of dirt to be seen. There was a small crowd a distance off, all awaiting the picks of the Prince as well as the Prince himself. 

They were all dressed in fine cloth, mostly whites and soft blues. The occasional jewelry and flecks of gold also caught Ethan’s eyes. He was always a fan of the pretty jewelry the nobles would wear. He kept his gaze roaming, the houses made of fine wood and the nicer ones a smooth stone. They were beautiful. Ethan looked down at his own appearance, lightly caked in mud and his “dress” clothes bagging off his frame. He looked just like the place from which he came, an eyesore. 

It wasn’t too long before the knight that had dropped him off had returned with another boy, a medium height blonde boy, who was skinny but not as frail looking as Ethan. He didn’t recognize the boy, but he was sure there would be plenty of time for introductions later. At least he knew Wade. The Prince followed immediately after. He stopped just inside the gate, the screaming of the turning gears sounding as the gap in the gate closed. After the screeching stopped, the Prince seemed to spur more into action that the nonchalant actions he portrayed before. 

“You may address me as your Royal Highness or Sir, nothing more or less.” Rules, Ethan registered. The Prince’s voice was surprisingly deep, ringing throughout the air to the point he was sure the crowd just a bit further down the street could hear. “Your names.” It was a statement, a question, and a command at once.

“Wade Barnes.”

“Ethan Nestor.”

“Felix Kjellberg.”

The prince nodded, not looking too committed to memorize the names past this day. “Barnes, you will be helping with training. You will help me with my armour in the morning, prepare my horse, and all other commitments in my realm.” With another wave of his hand, One of the three elders took Wade off up the road, towards where the castle could be seen by looking high enough. The buildings mostly hid it from this angle, but they weren’t as tall as the wall around the city. The castle was at the center of the city and nearly a mile or so up the road. Wade would at least have a head start on the others.

“Kjellberg, you will be among the scullions in the kitchen, but you will serve directly under me. I do not settle for less than perfection. You will also work upkeep the cellar as your side duty to the kingdom.” Another wave and Felix was gone. As the blond left, he turned quickly to Ethan with a flash of panic in his blue eyes before he was too far away to say anything. He was overreacting, he would be a cook and perhaps clean the dungeons, as a personal servant duty that sounded far better than whatever Ethan was to be left with.

“Nestor,” the Prince paused for a moment and examined the boy. He was beginning to hate the way the Prince’s eyes seemed to judge the very bones of his body. “You’ll be my personal servant for the time being. Your place will become more apparent as time goes on. Once I take the throne the pieces will fall as they may.” He waved again but the question burning on Ethan’s tongue wasn’t willing to wait a mile to ask. 

“Your personal servant? For ten years?” Ethan asked before stumbling to add, “If I may so inquire Sir.” 

The Prince was already moving to mount his horse and didn’t answer the question immediately. The elder murmured something about speaking to the Prince unprovoked and began to tug him away as the other two had done for Felix and Wade. “The cards will fall as they may Nestor, the King isn’t dead yet.” Felix, Wade, and Ethan were to be the three closest to the Prince for the years to come and that thought alone was beyond what Ethan had ever considered. As the elderly hand pressed to his back ushered him on, he couldn’t help once more turning back to the gate. It was closed and the walls were too high to hope to see over, but somewhere out there his father would be returning home without him. It was a good day for his family, but the excitement from before slowly disappeared into the fear of the unknown. 

The King was sickly, and he was surprised the Prince could speak of it so effortlessly. Were the two on bad terms? Ethan had a million questions that were never answered as the Prince road far ahead of the group towards the direction of the castle. He could spot Felix and Wade ahead, not too far away from each other but all spread out. The nobles and Lords peaked their heads out of their neatly sealed windows and stood at their door frames as they were brought through the city. It wasn’t like they were being paraded, they were still servants and scum from the outer ring. The people weren’t looking with awe as much as they were with mild disgust at them being allowed to be near their beloved Prince, but there was a hint of curiosity behind their eyes as well. 

The closer they got to the heart of the kingdom, the taller the buildings got and the more advanced the structure of the buildings became. The booths they passed were nothing like the ring, they were selling the jewelry that Ethan had admired, and the merchants wore fine cloth just like the nobles. It was everything they spoke about and it left Ethan in awe. The presence of the Prince made him stressed and tense, but the city? The city felt freeing. Turning to the elder shuffling besides him he asked, “What will we be doing today?”

The elder still had the rob concealing his face, walking at a slow pace which Ethan’s legs appreciated during their mile. “You will be cleaned and dressed. Then you will be in your quarters until tomorrow morning where you will begin your duties. Barnes will report to the stables to begin training for the week. Felix will be trained by the other scullions, and you will report to Your Royal Highness Prince Mark of Utheral.” It was funny hearing the full title so casually, but he knew better than to laugh now.

“What is your name?” Ethan asked, but the elder decided not to answer. He made no move to reply and neither spoke until the castle was finally in sight. His shoes weren’t meant for walking so they pinched and began to break down more than they already had so it was a relief to see more than it was amazing to see. It was built up the side of a small hill at the center, the stone towers shooting up throughout the hill, the inside likely having been hallowed in construction. There was moss growing up the sides and over the peaks giving it a natural appearance that was a sight to behold. It’s asymmetrical design allowed for a sense of creativity and uniqueness despite it being built of weathered stone and timber. 

“It’s beautiful,” Ethan whispered, finally approaching Wade and Felix who had been stopped to group up. 

“It is your home for now.” The elder said, no influxion in his voice being found. The Prince was nowhere, already likely back to his everyday life by the time they arrived on foot. The three new servants stood side by side now as they’re individual elders walked ahead towards the entrance of the castle. Wade looked at Ethan, ushering him to take the first step and Ethan gestured as Wade to do it rather. They were both beat by Felix beginning to step forward, so they followed quickly to not be left behind. Now, was when their new life really started, crossing the threshold of stone into the heart of the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All feedback and comments are appreciated! :3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter immediately after I wrote chapter 2 (it is currently 5:45am) and so if the quality is hot garbage, please let me know. I hope you guys enjoy!

They called him lucky. They said he should be appreciative he was given his own space, given that even Wade and Felix were roomed together. However, Ethan found himself far from appreciative sitting on the edge of his new bed in utter silence. He hated silence. He had lived everyday for nearly 18 years in the chaos of noise and people always around him. Now he was alone, and he was told to be grateful. He should be by all rights and means, even though he wasn’t quite sure what being a personal servant was going to entail yet. He was serving his indenturement at the palace. He was directly under the Prince and soon to be King himself. Andrew was far away in the country working on a farm. Sean was doing who knows what with the Lord in Rifton. Ethan was luckier than he had any right to be. He was weak and thin, not any use for lugging equipment like Wade. Before they were excused to their quarters, they discovered Felix had an aptitude for select foreign tongues and the Prince immediately seemed to take note of that. Ethan had nothing.

The room was the same size as his shack, which was huge for one person to have to themself. He had a water spout in one corner, a floor-length mirror propped against the wall next to it. His bed was in the center of the room, thick wool sheets and feather pillows clothed with a pale white dye. He had never slept on a bed. Ethan ran his hands over the blanket he sat on. The bed was much more comfortable than the floor, even if not by much. It was the first featherbed he had the chance to call his own. The canopy above his bed gave a shield of white hangings. They once more informed him that servants were lucky to have a sheet and a place to lay. The Fischbach’s were not the most benevolent, but their treasured servants were known to rest a little easier and eat a little more frequently than other kingdom’s servants. The top blanket was wool lined with fur, as if the palace wanted to make sure every part of their decor range true of their wealth and power. They were the capital of the nation for a reason.

Ethan let himself lean back, the featherbed and supporting straw bed barely caving under his weight. The silence became deafening soon, the light of his candle on the chest at the foot of his bed barely lighting up the room. He had no windows, but candles throughout the room helped to provide some sort of light when lit he was sure. The boy was told to remain in his room the rest of the night but his restless was always his undoing. He sat up eventually, settling now to grab his lit candle to light the others. Scooping up the small metal below the candle itself, he waved it around in the dark to find the others. He managed to get the others lit after a bit of wandering. It wasn’t an increasingly large room, but it was already too big. He had asked his elder for a smaller space or to possible room with Wade and Felix, but the sharply retorted no made him aware it was seen as a rude request to change rooms. He was a servant no matter what at the end of the day. A lucky one, they made sure to remind him.

The chest and drawers throughout the room were mildly ironic, neither of the three boys having brought anything or even having anything they could have brought to begin with. Over the next 10 years, Ethan wondered if he would ever see those drawers filled. Ethan ashamedly found himself as a very materialistic person, but at the same time had a hard time owning something himself. His mother had gotten him a small carved wooden ring when he was 10 as a gift, and he had lost it within the week. It was a shame, she never ventured to get him anything too valuable after that and for good reason. Ethan looked around at the room with the improved lighting, but there wasn’t anything new to look at. He was to fit the royal tailors in the morning to get new clothes, and then report to the Prince for his first day. 

His mind wandered to what he would wear, what it would be like to wear clothes that weren’t handed down through Andrew’s wear and tear first. He looked down at his fathers dress clothes and knew if nothing else he had to keep them. Ethan knew they were never going to fit, but he had to return them one day when he could. Maybe he could find a way to get his father even nicer ones. Then he could sell these and make a few coins from it. There he went again, Ethan noted with the sad sigh he gave out. He was already daydreaming about being able to be home again. He wasn’t too far however, and after a while maybe the Prince would allow him to write like Andrew’s patron does. 

Ethan removed the deep maroon vest tied with thin strips of leather over his faded green shirt. He folded the best u[ and placed it into his drawer to mark the first of his stored possessions. He wanted to explore the castle before the hours ticked by and he was unable to, but his aching feet and tired eyelids pulled him down into the bed. It wasn’t comfortable Ethan decided. Popping his boots off, Ethan grabbed the fur lined blanket atop his bed and dragged it to the floor. The stones were less comfortable than the dirt was albeit, but it was much more familiar. Wrapping himself in the blanket, he found himself falling asleep for the first time to the sounds of absolutely nothing.

\-----

He was woken up by the same elder as yesterday, though he couldn’t tell until he spoke. Ethan wondered if the man were simply assigned to him at this point. “You are sleeping on the floor.” The man stated, his eyes now visible to Ethan from the low angle he lay. The man’s features were sunken and his eyes a deep grey, and he certainly glared at Ethan like he was not a fan of being perceived. 

He sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Yes I did. It was more comfortable frankly.”

The elder shook his head and walked over hastily, pulling Ethan with surprising strength upward. “You are lucky you were awoken by me and not anyone else. You will sleep in your bed and accept the privileges so graciously given to someone like you.” Ethan bit his tongue, making sure he didn’t start rambling about how those weren’t his intentions like he had yesterday before the elder slapped him across the face. He wondered if Wade and Felix’s elders were as strong as his or if he just got unlucky for once in the past 24 hours. 

“Is it time to get to the tailor?” Ethan asked, bending down to pick up the blanket and toss it back onto the unused bed.

“I see sleeping among the stones hasn’t completely destroyed your basic common sense.” Ethan decided then he wished he could have just gone back to sleep. “Yes your tailor is awaiting you, she is working with her apprentice today so you will be patient.” Tailor’s apprentice? Ethan tried to contain his excitement at the chance it could be Amy, but he simply nodded and began to put on his boots. Ethan followed the man through the torch lit halls, other servants bustling past him with their own tasks. They all glanced at him, some unaware of who he was and other painfully aware of Ethan and his position. The difference was one started with confusion and the other with envy. Yeah he definitely wanted to go back to sleep.

The castle was built like a labyrinth it felt like, the sheer amount of turns and stairs the two took felt ungodly by all rights. The castle was huge but daunting when realizing he was soon going to have to navigate by himself. The walking was worth it in the end when they finally reached the tailor and a young woman with brown hair opened the door to greet them and instantly froze in shock at the sight of Ethan staring back at her. 

Amy wore a floor length grey hooped dress, a white corset pinned back a white silk cloth dropped over the front of the skirt like an apron. She had no words staring into the eyes of someone she never would’ve guessed to be staring back at her in the royal palace of all places. Ethan gave a small smile before the elder gave a confused pause at the door before pushing inside. To think the elder told Ethan to be the patient one. “Madam Tracy the boy is here.” Amy said, her tone conveying the slight shock she still hadn’t completely processed. 

A bustier woman came out, wearing the exact same outfit as Amy except with a gold ribbon tied around her waist. Her hair was braided in a blond crown around her head and she greeted them with a warm smile. “Welcome! Arion, don't be shy, bring me the boy.” So that was the elder’s name. 

Arion grumbled but agreed, ushering Ethan forward. “I will return to bring him to Your Royal Highness as soon as you finish. Send your apprentice to fetch me at the Great Hall.” The elder turned around quickly and vacated the room as quickly as he had arrived. Ethan guessed he was going to have a hard time discovering if Arion had a good side or not.

“Ethan Nestor.” Amy said as Ethan stepped closer to Madam Tracy. It was a statement and a question wrapped into one.

“Awe did you two know each other?” Madam Tracy asked, already setting off to grab her pins and sewing needle. “I forget sometimes where you are from,” the woman chuckled. Amy nodded, following suit and helping the other woman grab supplies and the clothes set aside for Ethan that needed a bit of tailoring.

“It is good to see you Amy.” Ethan said with a smile, the familiar face a welcome sight and the aura of the room much warmer with Arion gone. 

She paused a moment to return the smile while Madam Tracy stripped Etahn of his clothes. He hadn’t thought about that part yet. Amy seemed to pay no mind to her childhood friend being stripped naked in front of him though. “The Prince’s personal servant? Ethan I had no idea it was you. That’s amazing!”

“By God’s bones girl, are you dreaming of a different master on me now?” Madam Tracy teased, shoving a freshly cleaned black long sleeve coat shirt over him, quickly pinching the loose fabric back, unaffected by his thin frame. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it Madam Tracy,” Amy chuckled in return, ushering Ethan to step into the new black pants that matched his shirt. “Just, it's baffling. Ethan Nestor. The personal servant of the heir to Utheral.”

“Hard to believe it myself. Have you met him? Prince Mark? My only interactions thus far have suggested...certain things about his demeanor.” He was careful to use any negative words around Madam Tracy, she may have been nice so far but badmouthing the Prince was a good way to find himself a scheduled hanging.

Madam Tracy and Amy, however, shared a humorous glance, keeping their laughs hidden for reasons Ethan was not yet sure. “Yes I have met him Ethan. He can be...cold. He keeps to himself a lot, but he will be a fine master Ethan I swear.” There was more to the story but neither seemed intent on informing Ethan as to what it could be. Maybe that was a story for another time, given they were both at work pinning and sewing the clothes while on his body. The slide the tight white fitting vest on, it nearly felt like a corset the way it tightened around his shoulders and molded to his thin sides. The boots were last, tied from the back and as close fitting as the rest after they tried a few different shoe sizes. Ethan soon found he was small in just about all clothing departments including women. 

The two women admired their work, but Amy grabbed a gold line sash from nearby and tied it around his waist to complete all the Kingdom’s colors. His sleeves poofed out at the wrist, small leather straps tied to keep it that way. The vest went down to his midthigh and from what he could tell from the mirror, it was his first pair of fitting clothes. “Could you imagine this just a few years ago?” Amy asked, standing beside him in the mirror. He remembered when they used to play in the mud together, their fathers talking by the porch as they always did and watched their children play. She had really adjusted well to life in the kingdom already, and for that Etha was happy for her.

“No I couldn’t.” Ethan whispered, still taking in the new sight. Madam Tracy dismissed Amy to retrieve Arion while she made her final adjustments to Ethan’s attire. His pants protruded from where the boots ended below his knees, making him look mildly ridiculous, but it was everything and more. If only his mother could see him now. IT was exactly comfortable yet but he understood why Amy seemed so happy. She was hard at work, but she enjoyed it. 

“I must warn you Ethan, not everyone will be as kind as myself and your friend Amy.” The woman continued to finish the last of the adjustments to the pants, sitting on a stool to his left as she spoke. “They will not be kind to you at first. You were given a high position that nobody would have expected would be given through indenturement, usually a loyal servant works up to it through the years and gaining of trust from the Prince. He broke a tradition selecting you, not that the law demands him to follow the unspoken tradition. Keep to yourself until you are better known here. Mar- The Prince can also be trusted, after he decides if you are worth his time.” Finishing the last stitch, she lowered her voice. “Be worth his time.” Ethan wasn’t sure if that was more advice, or a threat sewn into the conversation like her final stitch. 

Ethan nodded, “Thank you Madam Tracy.” She gave a grunt of acknowledgement in reply and it was only a few minutes later when Amy returned with Ethan’s oh so beloved elder in tow. 

He examined Ethan now, like a day old loaf of bread in the trash. “You did what you could Madam, thank you for your time.”

“He looks fine, Arion. The boy will grow into himself more once he eats more than once a month.” She waved them goodbye, Ario doing his signature 180 before leaving towards where Ethan could only guess was the Prince. He gave Amy a polite smile, both happy to have seen eachother with the unspoken promise of more visits to come. Ethan was off, his boots clicking as they hit the ground in pursuit of Arion. The attire would be something Ethan would have to get used to. Madam Tracy had made sure to take notes of his physique and measurements, insinuating he would find more clothes in those drawers. He had made them promise to return his old clothes as well, and Amy’s word was as good as gold to him right now.

The two walked, the clean clothes uncomfortable at first given their tight nature, but made the younger man feel less out of place than he had since he arrived the afternoon before. He was definitely better dressed than the other servants he passed, most looking closer to what Amy wore, so he now drew attention in the other direction. Maybe it was better to look like a rotting apple right now. Why would the Prince break a tradition even if he wasn’t obligated by law to follow it? Ethan was nothing and provided nothing. There had to be something more.

Arion guided him out the Grand Hall which he had just come from, the twists to get there deeply confusing his brain more than they already were. The took the leftmost staircase, the ornate wood a spectacle to behold with every step. The boots were beginning to hurt a bit but Ethan supposed that this was the feeling of breaking in a pair of new leather boots. He had never experienced new clothes such as this, so everything was about to be a first. Arion moved swiftly for looking closer to the grave than Ethan did, and soon after a sharp left at the top of their selected staircase, the arrived at a large wooden door with steel handles that Arion used to push open the door without hesitation.

Prince Mark had a window, Ethan noted, staring out the small cuts in the stone allowing for the sun to stream in but the elements to stay out. His bed was grande and full of heavily decorated blankets and embroidered hanging on his canopy. Other than that, however, his room lay completely bare. It was as if he put his wealth into his bed and his ebd alone because past that the room was just as bare as Ethan’s. The last thing that caught Ethan’s eyes was Mark himself. He stood near a trimmed hay cutout of a human, slashing his greatsword without care for his new visitors. After a moment, Mark threw his sword with a grunt and Ethan watched it land directly in the center of the hay-shaped person, knocking the entire figure over onto its side. Ethan couldn’t help widening his eyes at that even as the Prince turned around to look at them.

Sweat coated his forehead and he wore fine silk pants with his white loose shirt tucked into them. He hadn’t seen Mark dress very Prince-like since his arrival and first sight of the Prince. Once again, Mark examined Ethan again but much quicker this time. “He doesn’t look half dead. Good work Arion.” 

“Thank Madam Tracy and Miss Nelson for the work. I simply woke him.” Arion said with a small bow and taking that as his que to leave. Ethan found himself praying to the Saints that he would never insult Arion again if that meant he wouldn’t leave Ethan alone with Mark. The Saints ignored him that day. 

The silence from before returned, deafening and all around quite uncomfortable. Mark wiped the sweat from his forehead and usher for Ethan to bring him his rag on the stand by the entrance he was glued to. Ethan practically scrambled to get it to him, Mark’s eyebrows raised humorously with a sense of mockery at the boy's actions. Ethan was already looking more like a personal jester than anything else. “Ethan was it?” Mark asked, accepting the rag and walking back towards where his sword lay scattered nearby the fallen hay bale. Ethan responded with a nod. “I asked you a question, are you unable to speak?”

Ethan’s face went a deep shade of red and he opened his mouth to speak this time, “Ethan Nestor, Sir.” Mark hummed at the response, picking up his sword from the floor and examining the scratched from hitting the cobblestone. Frozen in place, Ethan’s mind was racing a million miles a minute. His instincts to run away and hide were stronger than they had ever been in that moment. He wished he could’ve just been a tailor like Amy. Not that she was given an option either. 

“Well then Ethan Nestor,” Mark said after a moment, turning on his heels to face Ethan again, the rag over his shoulder now. “Is the palace everything and more than you dreamed?” There was a bitter tone to the Prince's words, the man sheathing his sword into the leather one strapped to his belt.

“I never dreamed of the palace Sir.” Ethan started but quickly realized honesty was likely not the best policy when speaking to the Prince himself. “But it is beautiful beyond belief.” That much was the truth at least.

Mark didn't reply at first, tossing on an overcoat that was embroidered with jewels and golden thread. With his hair loose and such fine clothing, there was no mistaking him as anything but royalty. Even Ethan’s new clothes were humble now. “Thank you, your praise is much appreciated,” his tone made sure Ethan was aware Mark had no interest in what Ethan cared about. Ethan hated this entire experience already.”

“Apologies Your Royal Highness.” Ethan bowed his head and said nothing further. All this earned was a scoff from Mark as he began to walk to Ethan cemented now in front of the foot of Mark’s bed. 

“Follow me.” With that, Ethan’s first day began; and every second was hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make me very happy so tear me apart or tell me I did somewhat decent, whatever you think. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the love so far! These chapters feel really slow so I apologize but I promise they are necessary for later

Hell would’ve been nice, Ethan thought as he carried every piece of Mark’s armour into town like a horse. It wasn’t just one suit of armour. It was all of them. All 24. Ethan’s arms were numb and aching, he took fourteen trips into town and back. 14 trips of agonizing hell just to deliver the armour to the blacksmith for cleaning. Thankfully some was finished towards the end of the trips so he was able to bring some sets back as they were finished so it wouldn’t be another 14 trips to deliver the sets back. Why couldn’t he have been a chef like Felix. Would the Prince be offended if he suddenly slipped into the kitchen and never returned to be a personal assistant? Besides this was supposed to be Wade’s job. Ethan soon discovered that Wade was busy learning to groom Mark’s prize horse Chica and so Mark’s personal servant was there to pick up the slack.

Ethan didn’t have to wait to find out what a personal servant for the Prince would be like. This was it. Mark didn’t even check in on him until the last trip, the bones in Ethan’s arms feeling displaced and liquified. Every part of him wanted to roll into that featherbed of his that he suddenly remembered to be much more comfortable than it was now. “Oh you’re finally done.” Ethan was slow to anger, but God himself was descending from Heaven to give Ethan the strength to not smite the Prince and his royal blood on the spot. Given he wasn’t given permission to speak, the boy bit back a scowl and stood up straight despite the ache in his lower back. “Please acquire me a snack from the kitchen. Anything will suffice. Except that god awful bread they make in there.” 

Ethan stood in the doorframe of the Princes quarters, and knew he was expected to bow before departing but as he began to lean forward he couldn’t help the small wobble. He hadn’t had water in a few hours now. That fact couldn’t have been lost on the Prince but he simply stood with his arms crossed. “I won’t have a clumsy servant, now will I?” He wasn’t clumsy. The ache and tire in his very bones was what kept him held back. Ethan gave a nod, stabilizing himself and rolling his shoulders a bit. “Words.”

Ethan hated that, his demand to hear Ethan’s voice. He’s a Prince, he had to remind himself. Things would always be different here. “Yes Your Royal Highness.” Mark seemed content and walked towards him, ushering the other to move out of the doorframe. Ethan quickly moved backward, managing to stay stable through it. 

“I will be in the library. If you are unfamiliar with the castle I would recommend learning quickly.” It wasn’t a bad idea, but coming from Mark made him instantly hate the idea. It wasn’t yet loathing, Ethan hating to be mad at people in general, but he held a certain level of disdain. Mark left without a pause and certainly without a look back. That was it. He wanted someone to retrieve him a snack for his reading in the library. Ethan used to wonder what the world inside the walls would look like, and frankly the mental image of beauty he had began to corrupt. The picture of golden streets and angels living among men now reduced to carrying 24 sets of dirty armour into the town’s blacksmith.

The benefit of the trips were he was very familiar with the route out of the palace now. He hadn't had the whole thing memorized but he knew at very least how to get out; at least if he started from the Prince’s room. Eventually the Prince turned the corner and the long black cloak wrapped around him disappeared a split second later. Ethan let himself bend over now, his knees bending and his arms on his sides. Over half the day was gone, it was very nearly over before he would be allowed to rest. Breathing deeply, Ethan groaned as he straightened; he wasn’t built for labor but he could retrieve a snack. Wiping the sweat off his forehead with one of the puffs of fabric from his sleeve, he began to walk down the same hallway Mark had just left. 

Ethan hadn’t yet found the kitchen, but maybe Felix would be having his first day there. He never knew the boy, nor did he have any memory of him outside the walls either, but with that being said at least it was someone from home. It was funny that way, Ethan noted as he descended the staircase that led to one of the four main corridors. He was in the same city. He was but a few miles from the life he had before, and it felt as if he too were shipped into the country. He just traded wheat fields for stone walls and thick wooden floors, and of course a deeply aggravating master. 

Servants bustled by, running their own errands and serving their own masters to the fastest of their ability. Some looked worried and others looked downright lackadaisical. The crowdedness here was more comfortable territory, he liked the busy everyday life. However, another feature Ethan admired and appreciated was his ability to blend in and avoid conflict. That ability didn’t seem to be a transferable one, as everyone he worked up the courage to ask for directions all looked at him like less desirable than mud. Most ignored him, and the rest chose to tell him to run off. This was the life Ethan was lucky to have, he thought spitefully. He was in the mood where he would probably give Arion a firm backhand too. Despite the hurtfulness of their words or the annoyance he got from just wanting to find the kitchen, he knew at least someone who would help. Tracing his steps back as much as he could, getting lost in the dimly lit hallways of the inner castle a few times, he managed to find the tailor’s place. Madam Tracy was the nicest noble he has met since he got there. Amy really lucked out.

His knock on the door remained unanswered much to his dismay. The Prince would be furious at the amount of time it would take him to retrieve a piece of bread. Or did he not want bread? Now Ethan couldn’t remember and he was terribly lost now. The shack was easy, there was only one room. There were several dozen on this floor alone. “If I were not mistaken, I would have mistaken you for a kicked hound.” Turning around Ethan spotted a girl around his age wearing the same grey dress Amy had worn earlier that morning. “Mika.”

Ethan nodded quickly. She had brown hair braided back her head, eyes wide and staring at him with curiosity. “Ethan.”

“I know who you are.” She stated, leaning back on her heels. “Where are you going Ethan?” 

“Kitchen. The Prince desires a snack.”

“Oh well I hate to inform you that you are quite on the wrong side of the castle. Do you need a guide?” The suddence niceness presented to him was more jarring than comforting at this point. 

Ethan at first shook his head no, but when she raised an eyebrow at him suspiciously he had no choice but to nod his head instead. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Don’t worry, this place is always a challenge to map out at first. Follow me.” She turned around, her dress swishing and her hair flying for a second as she turned. Mika began walking, the click of her soles against the wooden floor a clear sign to follow suit. He cautiously followed but elected it was in his best interest to quickly find the kitchen or suffer what Ethan didn’t want to imagine as the Prince’s wrath. 

“Where do you work? If you don’t mind me asking of course. You don’t have to answer if you don’t feel so inclined to of course.” She didn’t turn back to look at him but by the shake in her shoulders as she led the way indicated she was holding back a chuckle. Ethan deflated a bit, running a hand through his frankly greasy hair. 

“I’m a tailor’s apprentice.” 

“You must know Amy then!” Ethan said, lighting up a bit and jogging a moment to walk in step with the girl. She wasn’t much shorter than him, in fact with the slouch due to the ache in his shoulders she almost appeared to be taller.

Mika let out the laugh a bit this time, like you would laugh at the silly actions of an adolescent. “Yes I do, though she serves under Madam Tracy. I serve under Madam Jane. Friends I assume?”

Ethan nodded with a small smile painted to his features. If Mika was friends with Amy, surely Ethan would like her then. She was also helping him in a time of need so he was indebted to her that much trust at very least. It was beginning to be somewhat of a game to discover who in the castle didn’t wish to end his life or take over it. 

They walked up a flight of curved stairs, taking more unfamiliar turns as Ethan and his excited nature began to ask more questions. “How long have you lived in the castle?”

“Since I was 12 actually. My father was a lord before he lost his fortune due to bad business ventures. We had to choose whether to serve here or live in the outer ring.” It was clear she was about to mention that serving here was better than living out here but decided against it in current company.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Ethan offered, looking away for a second before deciding to move on the conversation. “Are you 18?” She nodded. Older than he was, but that meant she was only a few years off from ascending beyond apprenticeship. 

“You?” He shook his head in response to her question and she nodded once more. Ethan decided he liked her, she was very nice and her mannerisms were calculated showing she definitely was built in poverty, but was gracious even in it. 

Eventually they found the kitchen, her help much appreciated. His smile lit up further to which she only smirked out. He couldn’t figure out if she liked him too or saw him as a peculiar child. “Thank you, Mika.” Ethan said after she pointed to the door he needed to find. Men bustled in and out prepping the supper for later that evening. 

“Word of advice Ethan?” Mika said, her tone like advice from an older sister. “Be careful. You are nice. They hate that.” Ethan thought that was very vague but also was happy to receive a compliment. The more he considered it, maybe he did resemble much of a small domestic hound. 

“Why?” He called out after her but she didn’t answer as she retreated the same way they had come. The worst thing was now he didn’t know how to get to the library. Today was a whirlwind of emotions, but he once again could confirm sleep sounded like a lovely activity he would like to participate inactively.

Creeping forward, Ethan adjusted the tight white vest strapped to him to allow a little more room for breath and then walked inside the kitchen. No eyes were drawn to him and the men and women carried on as if he didn’t exist. He envied Felix more and more with every minute. It smelled of garlic and cooking meat, the men wearing blue robes and keeping a careful eye on their dishes. Scanning the room, careful to step out of the way of the men, Ethan spotted a tuft of blond hair underneath a white head wrap in the back right corner by the fire pits. 

Stepping forward and playing a dodging game as he pushed through, Ethan made his way to the blond tuft to find Felix stirring a pot while a large man with red hair watched with a judging expression. “Felix?” Ethan called once he was a yard or so away. The boy looked up surprised, drawing attention from his supervisor as well. 

“Ethan?” The boy asked, his voice sounding as tired as Ethan felt. His supervisor stepped forward with anger and accusation radiating off his essence. Nevermind, he didn’t envy Felix, at least Ethan could look Prince Mark in the eyes. 

“What do you need, boy?” The man’s voice was deep and rumbled through his ears like a thunderstorm. His instincts like before were to run and hide behind the shelves of ingredients.

“The Prince, he desires a snack.” He scrambled to get off, stepping back instinctively when the man stepped forward. At the mention of the Prince, the supervising chef grumbled and seemed to set off to grab what he knew would satisfy the request. Felix and Ethan locked eyes for a moment and both managed to communicate they were both in a position of discomfort and hating their new life. This was for his family, everyday would have to be in remembrance of that. It wasn’t too long later when the man returned, his presence alone causing goosebumps up Ethan’s arms. 

He tossed Ethan a lone apple and a small chunk of cheese. He managed to catch them but heat rose to his face in his scrambling attempt to. The supervisor huffed and pointed a harsh finger towards the door Ethan entered, the message was clear. Get out. Glancing back at Felix for a goodbye, the servant pulled himself quickly out of the room. In all honesty, Ethan didn’t feel comfortable until he was a few turns away from the kitchen. There was a good chance he wouldn’t find himself spending a lot of time there. Sighing, he desperately tried to find a main corridor. By God’s luck, he really wasn’t too far from the library itself. That made his task much more aggravating knowing that Mark was simply around the corridor from the kitchens. Ethan began to recognize the hall as not too far from his own quarters. It made him a bit more confident in the layout of the castle if nothing else.

The entrance to the library was just as grand as the rest of the castle was itself. It was two levels, the books stuffing the shelves in a room as large as his own. Books weren’t often easy to find outside cities themselves, Ethan’s own reading not the sharpest, but it was a beautiful sight. Walking in, apple and cheese on both his hands, it didn’t take an expert to find the Prince. He lounged on an ornate wooden chair, the cushion lined with linen and clearly comfortable from the appearance alone. 

Mark looked the same as before but with one new, infuriating detail. He was biting into an apple with one hand as he read with a book in the other. Ethan stood across the lounge area, his grip on the apple becoming a bit tighter. A lot tighter. The Prince noticed his presence right away, but didn’t act upon it until Ethan finally piped up. “Sir.”

A smug smile rose to the Prince's face before he slid down the book, a hint of mockery hued into the near joy he looked to have on his face. Ethan was patient. Ethan loved people. Ethan wanted to send a Prince back to his maker. “Oh you made it. I figured the others had torn you apart by now.” Looking at the apple in his hand, Mark shrugged. “You took too long.”

“I apologize Sir, I have yet to be acquainted to the full extent of the castle.” Ethan took the sting out of the words but the glare in his eyes wasn’t lost on the older man.

“That hardly sounds like an excuse, doesn’t it?” Mark said with a squint in his eyes, he always seemed to put Ethan in his place the second he got him riled up. “Regardless I wish to have whatever you brought.” Ethan nodded before he could decide to formulate another fantasy of him throwing the apple and cheese square at the others forehead. Tenderly, he placed the food items after strolling properly up the table. 

Mark, legs crossed and book still folded in his hand, tilted his head before nodding. “Well done. I have no further use for you until after supper. Return to your quarters until then.” The words were condemning him to a few hours of boredom in a dark room, and they were music to his ears. His feet carried him away from that library careful not to appear to be running away from the Prince. The Prince. Already the bane of his very existence and he had spent only a day with him. Running around pointlessly to clean his armour and fetch him a snack he had already gotten himself. 

Mark always looked like he was testing him. Everything he did to Ethan, he would squint his eyes and tilt his head as if waiting for something to happen that never did. Ethan wondered if he was looking for him to break, and if that was the case he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Despite his grievances, his family needed this and if we worked enough he could get a good life for himself. So his tired feet carried him to his room, only taking one wrong turn this time. Nobody waited at his quarter’s door, the sight free of Arion who quite frankly Ethan was bordering on having grievances with as well. 

Amy was doing okay however, and that was important. Mika too seemed to be faring well having already been here 7 years. In terms of indenturement, if she too was serving the 10 years she was nearly done. He would very much like to find her again after today, friends were a welcome sight. Opening his heavy door, Ethan wondered how Wade was fairing with the horses today. Wade was always a big kid, but he was scared of just about everything. Stone cold viking in the making but a good friend from his interactions with Ethan growing up. The best sight today, however, belonged to the floor beside his bed. 

He had laid down originally in bed, but the looming thought of discomfort crowded him. The glaring eyes of the other servants today made it clear he didn’t belong there. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for those glares and all of those eyes to glance over him like he didn’t care. Mika and Arion sure made it seem like a very long time much to Ethan’s dismay. The feeling of not belonging was what dragged him from the bed to sink back to the floor, taking the blanket he had tossed back on the bed down with him. Arion would likely scold him again or perhaps slap him like he had done before, but he was happy in his cocoon of the fur lined blanket. The candles from that night burned low, needed to be relit but the fatigue made moving a task of its own. Thinking about moving caused muscle strain. 

This was the first day of many and it wasn’t over yet. There could be years of the same tilted examinations from Mark as he pressed his servant over the edge, and maybe worse as he ascended to the throne. He couldn’t speak for the Queen and King, but the Prince was the first person Ethan had truly met that had pushed all of his buttons in exactly the wrong way. He found himself fading into sleep, his bones relaxing and enjoying slumber until his door was swung open by none other than Arion himself only an hour later. “Your presence is demanded at once.” There was more panic in his voice than the usually harsh bite that accompanied the elder’s words.

“Does Prince Mark have another task?’ Ethan groaned, content to ignore Arion’s quite rude awakening.

“No you foul creature. The Queen.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I just moved home for the semester and I had a lot of exams this week so it took a bit longer to crank this out. Next chapter will be a tad more...eventful, so hopefully all of the info dumping is done for the most part
> 
> This is not Beta'd and I certainly don't edit these well so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> PLEASE NOTICE RATING CHANGE. It will NOT be for this chapter and anything containing any triggers or otherwise will be mentioned before the chapter. Darker themes will be brought up next chapter and beyond so please notice the new tags. I love you all <3

Arion must have kept fairly in shape despite his frail nature because he hoisted Ethan out of the air as if he were nothing more than the blanket he had thrown off of him. The elder had to give him a hard time about sleeping on the floor, instead too focused on making him presentable for the Queen. Ethan watched in silence as the elder tightened all the drawstrings around his attire with extreme focus.

The Queen wasn’t spoken about much as far as Ethan could recall. Most were in favor of discussing the King, his wife often going without much more than acknowledgement. In that way, not much controversy was spread regarding her. His own mother never had anything but kind words regarding her once her name was mentioned, as if speaking about an old friend. He wasn’t sure what she was like or even why she would request an audience with a servant, given she had every right to command it; with the sharp way Arion tightened the strings on the back of his vest, Ethan was sure the summon, although a request, was a command.

“What is she like?” Ethan asked, sure Arion would know given his status as an elder in the kingdom. From his own understanding, the three elders were the King’s chosen servants as he ascended to the throne. The elders then served as advisors later and were given elder status as their bodies were no longer fit for the servant life. Arion must have been very loyal to be the way he is now, devoted to the royal family.

Arion lifted his head up, his hands visibly paused a brief moment. Ethan only rarely saw the old man’s face, but it was very clear now in the candlelight. His eyes were a hollow grey and his skin aged and weary like the wood shacks in the outer ring, the crookedness of his nose adding to this metaphor. The sleepless nights of his youth could be counted in the bagged lines under his eyes. The elder seemed to be choosing his words carefully, but there was a hint of sadness in his voice that Ethan couldn’t quite account for. “She is all the good Utheral has to offer.” 

There was no time to question the distance glaze in his eyes or the sad hue to his praise of the Queen because the elder seemed to return to his rank and carry on his tasks. Ethan let him make his adjustments in peace, still waking up from his much desired nap. The ache in his shoulders once more spiked up as Arion took the thin boy’s wrist and pulled him from the foot of the bed and outside of the quarters. The benefit of the Prince and Arion dragging him through the castle was that he was now much better acquainted with the main corridors as well as the paths to the important rooms like the kitchen, the library, the tailor, and the Great Hall. Maybe he could sneak out and have Mika give him a better tour one day if she were so inclined to.

Arion had dropped Ethan’s wrist after a while, both walking at an equally set speed walk. Ethan hadn’t fully processed yet the gravity of the situation until they reached the Great Hall. They had to walk up the staircase in the center of the large open area still, but they were dangerously close to the Queen herself sitting upon her throne waiting. Ethan both wanted to vomit and was excited, his mother would be ecstatic to learn he spoke with the Queen. The anxiety ran very well with that train of thought. The excitement soon was crushed by crippling worries. How did one speak with the Queen? He knew very little castle etiquette and quite frankly being summoned by royalty was either very good or very very bad. As they walked, Ethan scratched at his neck a bit.

“Do you know what this is about?” Ethan asked, both hurrying up the stairs, other servants finalizing preparations for supper in the pavilion connected to the left of the Great Hall. 

“I would have told you if I did.” Ethan didn’t believe this to be true. Arion told him occasionally what he needed, but never the whole picture. 

Ethan glanced sideways at the comment, obscuring his scrunched eyebrows from Arion’s gaze; the true benefit of that grey hoodie eliminating his peripheral vision. They soon reached the top of the stairs, Ethan’s legs feeling like they had lost the effects of his nap now that they stopped their hurried pace. There was a fork in the path now, the left most would lead to the Prince’s room, the right leading to the King and Queen’s separate commodities, and lastly the middle path lead to a gold encrusted ornate door. The door was closed with two unmoving knights posted as guards awaiting for the two to walk towards them. The floors were a fine dark wood, the walls of stone but lit thoroughly with torches and candles. The walls were cracked and mossy, but fine paintings of the lineage of Utheral’s leaders decorated the walls as you walked. 

Arion must have picked up on the anxiousness protruding from Ethan and began to spew off more information as they began to make their way down the hallway. “When addressing Her Majesty, the Queen you will speak of nothing negative of your experiences thus far. You are thankful for every experience you have been given. Queen Sunok is much kinder than Queen’s previously but no foul words leave the people’s mouths for a reason.” Arion must have been very close to her, Ethan noted mentally. It would account for the way he spoke about her, the words always distant and hollow; either that or he has seen firsthand what her wrath looked like. If the ladder were the case, Ethan hoped Mark didn’t take after his mother.

Unfortunately, as they reached the doors and the knights swung open the large ornate door, it was undeniable the closeness of the Prince to his mother. Ethan found it hard to stare anywhere but her, the Queen’s commanding presence filling the room with a distinctive aura. Long black hair draped down her shoulders as her maroon gown broadened her shoulders and ruffled to the floor even as she sat in her wooden throne. There was a larger throne beside her, likely that of the King’s who was not there. Ethan would have assumed it was due to him being on bedrest given his ill state, but he was a bit occupied being deeply intimidated by the Queen to have very many cohesive thoughts.

“Quit your gawking boy, approach and bow.” So they did, both of them taking but a few steps forward before bowing low before the Queen. Her expression stern and unchanging, Ethan could only guess it to be curiosity but it was hard to tell. She cleared her throat however, and the two men rose once more to face her. Now that he was closer, the more Ethan could make out the finer details. She was beautiful despite her age, grey hairs like stripes counting her age; much differently than that of Arion’s bags. There were wrinkles in her forehead after years of worry and responsibility, but her face was quite clear besides this. 

“Ethan Nestor.” The queen spoke before Arion could even speak his formalities. Ethan was already staring at her, so there was no need to jerk his head anywhere other than glancing briefly up at the crown atop her head. It was gold with four snakes curled to form arches, maroon jewels placed along that matched her gown. “Do you know why you are here today?”

He quickly shook his head no, his hands fidgeting before he quickly remembered Mark’s harsh words to use his voice. “No Your Majesty, I do not know.”

She seemed pleased after he spoke, but the look of curiosity never budged. “Strange.” She whispered, but moved on before Ethan had a chance to question why. “I have already had an audience with the others of Mark’s selected, Wade and Felix.” Arion and Ethan both deflated a bit knowing the boy wasn’t being directly singled out. “You are a servant Nestor. After your 10 years you may choose to leave, your sentence served, or you may choose to stay and rise to become an advisor and elder for the King as he ages into the throne.” 

“Nobody has ever left.” Arion stated from beside him, Ethan couldn’t help but tear his eyes away from the Queen to stare at him. Nobody? If they had offered him freedom that day, Ethan wasn’t quite so sure he could keep his family's wellbeing in mind long enough to not run away. 

The Queen nodded with a smile towards Arion before glancing over at Ethan. “Nobody has. This life will not be one of ease Nestor, and many will loathe you until your presence is settled as Arion can attest.” Ethan figured, but it hadn’t quite clicked yet that Arion would have been the personal servant for the King. It almost frustrated Ethan how incompetent of a help Arion was for someone who lived this exact experience only decades prior. “This being said, this castle will become your home. You will find family inside these walls and you will live much more comfortably than you will beyond these walls. Keep this in mind, even during your first day. These 10 years will feel like a fragment of time before you know it and you will be forced to choose where you will go. I advise you to make the most of your indenturement, as I forewarned both Barnes and Kjellberg alike.”

Ethan nodded, the words not completely processing yet, his mind racing through other things first and foremost. He saved that particular thought process for later that night when he would return to his quarters. Assuming the Prince would allow him to do it before an ungodly hour of the evening. Thankfully the panic and chaos since he arose from his nap had thoroughly woken him up for this meeting with the Queen. “I will Ma’am.”

“I am delighted to hear as much,” her words were laced with artificial honey and years of reading from a type of script reserved for only the Queen. “The Prince you serve will soon be the King. It is in your best interest to be careful. He could easily replace someone of twice your ability in a moment.” Ethan knew at very least that was true, this position was volatile. As much as he was ready to brawl with the Prince, Ethan needed to tread very carefully. 

“Your Majesty, may I be so impolite as to ask you a question?” Ethan asked and could feel Arion’s figure stiffen and his body temperature become feverish with worry over what the servant besides him would say.

The Queen cocked her head to the side and waved a hand towards herself as if to welcome the question without words.

“The Prince, as I am to serve him to the best of my abilities, what are things I could potentially...take into consideration avoid?” He was essentially asking her what Mark hated in the most roundabout way he could.

A soft smile rose to the Queen’s features, her hands folded politely in her lap unfolding to rest upon her knees buried under layers of thick fabric. “My son is a fighter. He takes much after his father, but he is a loyal man and will make a good King. This being said he has his flaws that he will soon learn to mature out of, but you will have to be alongside him during this process. The Prince is impatient, and likes things done a certain way. His ambitions will be the end of him but he is unable to slow down or be around those that inhibit this side of him. Let him be reckless, he will harm himself and learn like Kings before him. Suffer through his work ethic and demand for perfection and he will soon warm to your presence like the other servants in these walls.” The Queen sighed and folded her hands again, staring off at the large metal chandelier hanging with flickering candles far above their heads. “You will discover more as you begin to serve him, but take into consideration where you want to be once he ascends.” 

The last statement confused him, his eyebrows scrunching but the Queen made no move to elaborate. Ethan bowed and thanked her for her answer and Arion did the same out of politeness. 

“You are excused. I do not believe we will speak again for some time, young Nestor, so take my words to heart until we can once more discuss.” Just like that it was over. Another bow and Ethan was excused, Arion however stayed behind. The doors behind him were closed and Ethan was now speed processing their entire conversation in hopes to commit as much of it to long term memory as possible. Perhaps he should have brought paper and quill to write it down like notes. By the looks of the emptier Great Hall down the staircase, supper was being served. 

Mika came in like a godsend as she always seems to. She came up the stairs and raised an eye as to why he had come from the throne room. Ethan shook his head to indicate it was a story for a later date. He had just met her today, but he was thankful. This being said, she didn’t linger long. “The Prince requested your services a bit ago in his quarters, but learned you were with the Queen so has been waiting. Suppre is being served so his presence is awaited. Perhaps you should hurry?” It wasn’t a condescending suggestion like that of Arion’s, she seemed to be genuinely helping him. Nodding thankfully, Ethan branched off to the Prince’s quarters after waving goodbye to his new friend. 

This was a walk Ethan had already made before and thankfully he seemed to have it down now as he didn’t get lost going around. Ethan knocked at the Prince’s door and was startled as to how quickly it was flung open by the Prince. “Look who finished chatting with my mother. Get inside.” Ethan seemed to have become a master at do now, think about it later. He quickly rushed inside following Mark. “I almost had a tailor's apprentice summoned to finish my attire for supper.”

“Amy?” He asked knowing full well there were several apprentices, but his aggravated stance dropped a bit at her name.

The Prince stood at the foot of his decorated bed trying to tie the dark blue vest over the top of his white ruffled undershirt and nodded, “Yes, Amy.” That seemed to have killed the conversation, but it seemed like Mark was fond of Amy. Ethan couldn’t express how happy he was for Amy and her success in the castle already, everyone loved her. Ethan didn’t know the first thing about dressing anyone for that matter but he resumed tightening the vest as Madam Tracy and Arion had done to him. How was this all in the same day, Ethan sighed mentally. 

Once the vest was tightened he had the prince slide into the overcoat, a matching dark blue, and buttoned it in the front with the cape long and black matching the belt around his torso. “Do you wish to strangle me?” The Prince groaned out after a moment, loosening the tightness of the belt around his waist for a moment. Ethan wished to inform him of his lack of training in this department but elected to give his humble apologies and move to help finish his boots without further word.

Mark didn’t seem to like the silence however, and kept egging him on. “My rings.” Ethan went and fetched his rings from the only drawer being occupied next to his bed in a small basket atop a table. “I do not like these, put them back.” So Ethan did without a word, putting them back in the basket and returning it to where it was originally. Ethan returned and Mark hummed a bit, “I have changed my mind, bring me the large sapphire ring.” So Ethan did. It carried on like this for likely 3 minutes, just back and forth until Mark seemingly got tired of it.

“I will make sure they know my tardiness is a result of you. You may see yourself away. I expect you here tonight upon my arrival back.”

“When will you return?” Ethan asked, the Prince raising his eyebrows in an offended manner before Ethan rushed to add “Your Highness.” Ethan was moving without thinking, but Mark’s actions were affecting him. He was frustrated with this man. It was downright impossible to figure out what this man’s intentions were other to than to play with him like a marionette doll. 

“I will arrive when I do. That is more than enough information don’t you believe?” Ethan only nodded, his teeth gritting when Mark turned around to exit the room. He paused at the door, however, and gave a dead-sighted glance back at Ethan as if he were the one annoyed.

The younger man clenched his hands tight but quickly moved to lug the heavy door open. It took a lot out of him and he visibly struggled to move the door completely open for the Prince. Moving his long hair over his shoulder, Mark simply raised a nearly pitiful glance at Ethan before stepping through the door. He looked as if he were to speak regarding the sight but continued on. There were an increasing number of moments where Mark seemed as if he knew the effects of his actions against Ethan and other times he didn’t and frankly the boy had no idea which was worse.

He had nothing else to do in the castle, and he wasn’t sure where Mika spent her nights so staying in Mark’s room was likely the only option he had left. His stomach rumbled, an entire day of no food, but now that he knew his quarters were down the hall from the kitchen, he would make sure to pay a sneak visit to obtain some food at very least. Assuming he had the energy to, because as he closed the door when Mark left, the sleep he had received earlier had completely drained. Pulling a chair from the unused desk in the corner of the room, he stepped on top in order to see if his eyesight could reach outside the window. The ceilings weren’t outlandishly high, but Ethan was fairly below average and the windows were high up the wall. Stepping on the tops of his toes he could see nothing except the stars in the sky above the castle. He frowned a bit, but it was nice to see the cool night sky instead of the blazing heat of the sun from his visits into town today.

Cold air from outside had begun to fill the room, combating the stuffy heat from earlier. The weather in Utheral was astoundingly inconsistent, but at least it wasn’t always blazing sun or storming rain. Ethan stepped off the chair but sat in it now, the chair sideways and his right shoulder against the wall. Leaning his head against the wall he used it as a pillow, it scraped his cheek a bit and wasn’t comfortable but he couldn’t keep his eyes awake for long. 

In fact, he soon fell asleep, resting against the wall and legs extended before him. At some point he registered noise and brief noise before a stilling quiet that made him return back to sleep. It wasn’t until he woke to light streaming in from the very windows he had peered through that he had realized he had spent the night in the Prince’s room. Ethan jumped up in a panic and looked around, seeing a thin line sheet fall from his lap that had not been there when he initially had fallen asleep. Was that a blanket? The Prince was not in the room, but on the desk was a single apple and a small piece of paper that he was also sure hadn’t been there before. That was a benefit of Mark’s room being close to bare, it was easy to notice differences. Like a servant boy sleeping in a chair against your wall. 

Approaching the apple on the desk quickly there was a quick note written in ink beside it. “Do not make this a habit.” A command and a present. Ethan was scared this was a trap but he was still tired and his body was starving. So he ate the apple and examined the note. No clue as to where Mark was or had gone. He finished the apple, and set the core on the table. He would toss it outside soon, but he took the time to enjoy some quiet and take a deep breath. Maybe Mark wasn’t an absolute bastard. What a life he had caught himself up in.

Ethan smoothed out his hair with his hand and rolled his shoulders again. Both stuff but at least better than yesterday. Wade was stronger anyway so thankfully that job would be returning to him soon. Picking up the core and the note again, Ethan slipped out of the room and decided to try to find Arion. Surely he had some tasks for the day. The Prince, for all that he had been warned about being ambitious and strict to his schedule, didn’t seem to like to share his schedule. Thinking back to the linen blanket currently discarded on the bottom of Prince Mark’s floor, Ethan wondered who Mark really was.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be something Ethan would discover for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think! Also if you can figure out what they all know that Ethan doesn't yet ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continuous support and I hope you all enjoy. Here is a slightly longer chapter to enjoy.
> 
> ALcohol use and subsequent mild violence will be in this chapter as a warning.

The next few days blew faster than the first. The tasks began to repeat and after the first week, dressing Mark before breakfast, readying his riding attire for the afternoon, carrying the armour to be cleaned or repaired to Wade, occasionally began his bath but the Prince much preferred to be alone for that process, and finally get him dressed for bed. There were annoying and tedious tasks mixed in, Ethan was sure they were meant to test his patience and were easily the longest part of his day given they were almost always physically demanding.

Once he had Ethan rearrange all the furniture in his room, which was all made of high quality and extraordinary heavy wood. He had nearly broken down sobbing when it came to moving the bed as he ended up being unable. They boy had nearly torn apart his thin shoulders trying to pull or push the large frame. He managed to scoot it occasionally and stir the hangings on the canopy, but never more than that. Mark had returned to a tired, severely under fed Ethan stifling cries as he tried to pull the bed. The special tasks had significantly decreased in their strenuous nature since then, but were still tedious nonetheless. The Prince seemed to be testing more than his patience at some points.

He interacted more with Wade than he did Felix nowadays. He wasn’t actually able to see Wade until the third day, when he had to meet Mark at the stables and Wade was there brushing out Chica. While Mark spoke to a constable, Ethan was able to sneak away and speak to his acquaintance for a bit. “How have you been?” Ethan had asked, smiling as wide as one could seeing a friendly face. 

“Well! Work is hard and the weather is awful but it is much better than I thought. Felix snores however so I avoid the quarters when I can.” They shared a quiet laugh, checking to make sure nobody heard. Wade continued to brush the large horse as Ethan asked a barrage of questions.

“Is your elder an absolute pain in the rear?”

“Evan? No, I would say he has kept me rather calm in these times. Though he’s not much of a help with finding my way through the castle.” Ethan was glad to hear that was at very least universal. “Have you been able to see Felix much? He mentioned seeing you the first day.”

Ethan shook his head no and glanced over his shoulder to see Mark’s back turned to him speaking to the constable still. “No I haven’t. I did see Amy Nelson though! I don’t know if you two ever met but their family ran a portion of the meat market.”

“My sister was close friends with her I believe, I hadn’t known she was here.” It was nice to catch up like this, even if Ethan was visibly exhausted and Wade looked crisped from the sun after the past 3 days. They continued to catch up on everything in the time they had before Mark’s voice thundered for him to return.

Wade and Ethan shared a look of mutual exhaustion but were very glad they had the time to speak. Since that day they would see eachother everyday Mark decided to go for a ride. It allowed for a quick catch up but after the initial shock and confusion of moving to the castle, nothing had happened. They did their jobs and their masters excused them to their quarters. Wade apparently had the most free time out of the three of them.

Felix was busy often too, but Ethan had begun to make excuses to see himself to the kitchen other than when he would sneak out to grab a snack at night. In fact, Felix had caught him during the second week close to midnight when Ethan had shimmied open the door in search of dinner. All servants were fed in the afternoon, but Mark always seemed to have given him a task to do then, so it was uncommon for the Prince to conveniently leave a bit of food behind for the servant. Ethan supposed it was his way of not being a completely terrible man.

Ethan had thought it would be another flawless sneak in and out, grab an apple or a cheese wedge and get out, but he froze instantly upon seeing Felix in the act of doing...exactly the same thing. Ethan paused at the door, his bare feet cold against the stone floor, and looked at Felix with his eyebrows pulled up and lips slightly parted. The tall blonde man looked equally surprised, but knowing it was just Ethan the anxiety held in his tight shoulders seemed to leak out.

“Here for a snack too?” Felix asked, grabbing the apple he had come for off the shelf. Ethan gave a small laugh and rolled his eyes.

“Would’ve figured they would feed the one who works in the kitchen.” Ethan walked over to the same shelf Felix stood, not far from where the fire of the stove crackled with barely any life. 

Felix gave the laugh this time, crossing his arms and taking a bite of the apple. “You would think wouldn’t you.” 

There wasn’t much to scavenge this time unfortunately but Ethan made away with a small leftover chunk of bread. They had never had the time to discuss as Ethan and Wade had, but by the sounds of it Wade kept Felix updated on anything worth knowing. “I’m glad to hear your elder is as stuck up as mine,” Felix grumbled, nearing the final bites of his apple. “Wade always speaks of his fondness of Evan or whatever his name is.” Ethan gave a sympathetic groan. Arion was as annoying as he had been from the start, but he was growing to at least be thankful to have someone relatively on his side.

“How is serving His Highness.” Felix prodded, finishing his apple and tossing it into what the scullions used for waste. 

Another groan from Ethan caused the blond to laugh again. “Oh our dearest Prince Mark is everything they spoke about in the outer ring.” Sarcasm dripped from the very words and he was sure the other man would understand the meaning behind them. Even in private it wasn’t the smartest idea to outright speak negatively of the royal family, especially not in their own castle. The younger servants would swear the very wastles listened to them, and nobody moved to get rid of this superstition. 

They eventually bid their goodnights and every now and again, Ethan would bump into Felix and they would take turns ranting about their elders and the difficulties of their masters. It was nice developing a new system, it meant he was adapting. It was a new world they were all in, and Ethan was scared he would never be able to find where he fit. The other older servants still gave him the bitter shoulder, but the numbers were slowly decreasing. Things were going very well, all things considered and all problems ignored.

Then everything went very wrong, very quickly. Ethan sat on the floor of the Prince’s room in the midst of glass shards, and the words the Queen had uttered before rang in his head like a warning he had ignored, “... but take into consideration where you want to be once he ascends”. The week leading up to this very moment played like a poorly written theatre production in his skull.

Nothing had been amiss until the beginning of the week, when the Prince became increasingly agitated. The food he had always left behind to feed the servant slowly decreased in occurrence and finally had stopped. Ethan figured it was too much to maintain, and besides it wasn’t the Prince’s responsibility to serve his servant. It stung a bit more than Ethan thought. The two were not close even after a month, but they were no longer strangers. Ethan had sat beside Mark during the third week of his indenturement, finishing his tasks and awaiting the Prince’s decision for slumber. Tonight he did not seem so inclined to, and had invited the boy to sit beside him and stare out at the sky.

“Sir may I make a personal query?” Ethan asked, hands folded in his lap and looking over at his master. As the Fischbach way, he motioned his hand as permission for Ethan to ask without actually verbally saying so. “How are you?”

Ethan was sure the Prince was used to random queries, especially from the sheer amount of questions he had asked Mark during their time together. In a way Ethan just had a lot on his mind and a lot of questions, but it was also his one way of annoying the other the same way he tormented Ethan’s very existence. Despite this, Mark seemed caught off guard. His thick eyebrows knitted together and his eyes moved from the sky beyond the balcony to his hands resting on his knees as if bracing himself for a fall.

“I am not sure.” It might have finally been the first complete truth he had heard Mark say. Ethan nodded once enough time had passed to where he knew Mark wouldn’t continue. So they sat in silence a while longer before the wind picked up and Ethan began to catch a chill.

Mark seemed to notice this and decided to return to his quarters, Ethan following suit as per usual. The rest was routine, Ethan aiding the Prince in removing his day clothes and putting on the more comfortable attire for sleep. “Amy told me you still sleep on the floor. Why is that?” Mark never asked him personal questions past the day he had asked his name. It was now Ethan’s turn to be caught off guard and pause his actions.

“The bed is too nice,” Ethan said, which was the best he could explain. Arion still yelled at him every morning for it that he wasn’t distracted enough to ignore. “I grew up sleeping in the dirt, it reminds me of home.”

Mark nodded and Ethan could only equate it to him taking it into consideration. “Does everyone sleep like that?” Mark asked, trailing off before piping up quickly. “Outside the walls that is.”

Resuming his job, Ethan removed the thick green vest from Mark’s abdomen and set it aside in a basket for future wear. “Most. Some are lucky enough to afford anything else, but many of us share homes and the occasional bed is reserved for the sick and elderly.” Mark didn’t nod that time but his expression remained unchanged.

They didn’t speak again through the process until it came time for Ethan to leave. Ethan tucked away the basket of used clothes into a drawer, closing it quietly and moving to leave the Prince alone for the evening. “Ethan?” His name caught his attention and he looked back to the Prince who stood beside the left side of his bed. His hands hung by his sides and his eyes held more emotion than Ethan ever thought possible. “Things will change.”

There were a million things it could mean, but the warm words of a genuine promise made Ethan trust him. So, he gave a small smile and left the Prince alone for the night. Ethan had left feeling like perhaps the Prince and him could learn to tolerate each other at very least. Ethan felt he was close to the cusp of finding the real Mark. This feeling was very quickly crushed.

If Ethan had to contribute one event to the catalyst that was everything that had happened, it was the King rising from bed. He had been unable to move for months now and suddenly the castle was awoken to the King striding through the halls. He was not the same. Rage filled his eyes and hatred spewed from his being. The Queen had the guards escort him to her promptly, the servants that had encountered the enraged and confused King spread the word quickly. He was sick, possibly even more sick than he was before. They believe the infection to have crawled into his very brain. Many called it witchcraft and the others blamed disease. Ethan called it a pain.

Of course he felt remorse for the state of his King, but who he truly felt remorse for was those close to him. The Prince was angrier and easier to anger those first two days, worried about his father and attempting to contain the emotions with lashing out at those in contact with him. Mark had thrown things at Ethan, screaming and calling him worthless and driving him to flee the room.

Arion had somehow heard the commotion and rushed to the quarters by the time Ethan had fled the room. His heart raced with panic and fear of the events, his cheek cut and bleeding a small bit from something scratching his cheek. The servant had never seen Arion visibly worried over anything involving his well being, but Arion examined Ethan frantically for further injuries. Seeing none, the elder held Ethan by the shoulders, “Go to your quarters and do not return until morning.”

That was all he received before Arion disappeared behind the Prince’s door. He did stick around to see what the elder was to do. He ran. Ethan ran as fast he could while his eyes stung red from tears begging to come out. The boy passed Mika, her eyes immediately widened and watched as Ethan ran. She didn’t move to follow but she was visibly concerned. They had become good friends during his month there now, he would inform her of everything later. 

The third day of the week he was back to work with Mark and knew nothing of what Arion had said but the anger had seemed to fade or at least be fully suppressed. When Ethan had returned the next morning to aid him, he said nothing. Mark made no move to initiate a conversation either and simply moved in their routine. Everytime Mark moved Ethan would flinch, eyes jumping away and his hands quickly moving to a different task. The prince noticed and something next to regret flashed in his eyes but no apology was ever issued. Ethan wouldn’t have accepted it regardless, but the Prince didn’t have to apologize. Ethan was a servant, it was foolish to think they would ever become something close to friends. So they were cold again. The small moments of favor or kind gestures were obliterated.

Ethan had acknowledged it stung before, an ache in his chest at having lost what he had worked to try to maintain, but now it was worse. It was awful. The fourth day was nothing but silence. No extra tasks, nothing but vacant stares and words that should have been said but nothing ever came. Then came the fifth day. 

The King had died. Ethan knew the day would be full of pain and sorrow, Mark would miss his father and the Queen would put on a brave face. He had no idea the day would end with him surrounded by the glass of broken bottles across from Mark in the same state. Mark’s nose a light purple and Ethan’s own eye swollen shut; this wasn’t supposed to happen.

Arion had retrieved him that morning as always and informed him of what had happened. The King passed in his sleep, a quiet way to go for a man driven mad with disease. Arion warned Ethan to tread carefully, Mark had been there as his father died. Ethan truly felt sorrow then, even though Ethan had negative feelings for Mark, he couldn’t imagine watching your own father slip away.

Ethan gave no words in response, content with just nodding in understanding. Today was a day to simply do his tasks and do his duty to who Ethan supposed was his new king. Mark was already drunk when they found him, Arion and Ethan standing at the door in a mixture of disappointment and shock. He had three bottles of mead on the floor and two full beside him, one half empty gripped in his hands as he lay across the bed. Ethan had seen him hollow, but this? This was a broken, broken man.

Arion cleared his throat and the disgruntled man groaned and peaked his head up to stare at the figures in his doorway. Ethan must have been invisible as he looked only as if the elder were the only one of worth in the room. “Here to join the party old friend?” 

“That is enough Mark Fischbach, pull yourself together.”

“Or what?” His drawl was bad, Ethan noted as the Prince used what energy he had to push himself upright. His little furniture was knocked over, his sword was lodged on the top of his dresser, and his white shirt was stained with mead. “You’ll run and tell my mother? Whisper as you do in her ear?”

“Mark remember yourself. This is-”

It seemed the Prince also wasn’t a fan of Arion because he very quickly turned to bitterness at the instant the argument began. “Quiet elder. Or perhaps you forget still you hold no power above me. Much to your disappointment I’m sure. The news of father passing must be such great news for you.” There was venom in his words, but Ethan was still very confused.

“I loved that man like a brother.” Arion hissed back, his cloak falling from his head, which was the first time Ethan had truly seen him completely uncovered. His hair was long and grey, but the rest still remained unchanged. 

“Oh? Is that so? I don’t believe brothers lust after each other’s wives.” The looks the Queen and Arion had shared. Oh. Ethan glanced sideways in disbelief as to the implications of Mark’s words. Arion was a bastard but, surely that couldn’t be true. Arion wasn’t the time, was he? All of these thoughts passed in rapid motion inside Ethan’s head.

Arion’s entire being shaked now as he maintained his own composure, “You know nothing of what you speak. The Kingdom awaits their new King as you suffer here alone in your drink.”

Mark laughed, a deeply hollow laugh that echoed inside the chamber. “Let them wait. Let them wait months or years or however long it takes. I lost my father Arion. Leave.” Ethan for once, felt the Prince was in the right. The way he chose to cope was inefficient and reckless, but he had lost his father. He wasn’t sure before how close they were but that tears someone up. Arion, still enraged, moved to leave and drag along Ethan as Mark then leaned over the side of the bed and vomited. It was a pitiful day.

Ethan essentially had the day off but nothing exciting would happen. The halls were empty and the castle mourned their king driven to death in such a slow fashion. Arion disappeared quickly without giving Ethan a second thought. Everything felt hollow, and Ethan decided to sit on that balcony he had once shared his moment with the Prince. The sun was out and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. It was sickening that the sun was able to shine when the those below it mourned a loss, some more than others. 

There was solace with Mika and Amy, he found them shortly after his breather on the balcony. They were alongside Madam Tracy, all three deep in discussion and all mourning. Ethan had never met the King, but the servants appreciated him as much as a servant could love a master. Ethan was supposed to be the closest to Mark and nobody knew anything else other than that except for Mika,Wade,Amy, and Felix. This being said, the three women hugged Ethan tight and he let himself accept the comfort. It had been stressful for him, but he was not in mourning like they all were.

He stayed there through the evening, sipping tea and making what little conversation they all could until news broke. Mark was expected to address the kingdom today but from his understanding he was to ignore this. Many believed Mark was unready to be King, and to an extent Ethan agreed, but could anyone ever truly be prepared to rule an entire kingdom moments after your own fathers passing?

Madam Tracy stood to answer a knock on the door while Mike spoke about her old life as a noble, the door opening to reveal a fully dressed knight. “Ethan Nestor, you have been summoned by the King.” It was weird to hear the Prince addressed so quickly as that, the old king dead and replaced in moments. Scrambling to his feet, he handed Amy the cup in his hand. Ethan half expected to be dragged to the throne room, but instead he was brought to the very door he had left hours earlier. The knight left quickly, a little too quickly for a knight who was devoted to their King. Mark was likely giving everyone a hard time today. 

Ethan understood the knight’s quick pace the second he opened the door to Mark’s raging red eyes. He looked worse than before, his room a mess and the smell of body odor and vomit making the room smell like a rotting corpse. Ethan wasn’t so sure Mark wasn’t the rotting corpse himself by his appearance. He was out of bed now, stumbling to Ethan with anger in his eyes that gave him flashbacks of the night he had thrown things. 

Mark grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and with a strong grip yanked the smaller man to him, spitting as he hissed out what he had to say. “I never wanted you in the first place. Get me into my clothes now.” So Ethan did. He chose the nicest clothes Mark had. Ethan’s wrist shook lightly as he contained his fear of the Pri-of the King. He wanted to get this done quick so he had less chance to be harmed. That was the plan. Mark had calmed down a bit as Ethan made quick work of his pants and his boots. 

“I thought I was ready, you know.” Mark nearly choked out, Ethan unsure if it was a cry or a yell. “He was insane. It wasn’t even him anymore.” It was definitely a cry. His eyes filled with tears as emotions whiplashed through Mark’s eyes like a storm at sea. The moment of sorrow was replaced by anger as he ripped away from Ethan, elbowing him harshly in the eye at full force and sending Ethan flying back. Landing on the floor, Mark stormed over to where his bottles were before laying on the ground and he picked them up and threw them at the wall. Ethan scrambled away, still on the ground as Mark broke down further and further. His eye throbbed and he could feel it start to swell, so Ethan pressed his palm into it.

There were very few times Ethan had ever actually been afraid or put in positions where he would even need to be, but this was one of them. He stood deadly still as Mark turned and threw another bottle at the floor near Ethan’s feet and it scattered everywhere. Ethan watched in absolute deadly silence as Mark focused for a moment on the servant on the floor ahead of him. That was when the anger deflated. The sun was setting now and the light yellow rays made their way into the room from the window,illuminating everything Mark had done to the room. It was quiet and Ethan still held his eye tightly, shaking violently.

Mark stepped forward, his voice twisted with regret that didn’t leave this time. Karma struck as Mark stepped forward and slipped on the glass, his drunken stupor limiting his reaction time and falling square on his face. The unsettling crack and the drunk man’s instant groans let Ethan know he definitely broke something. Raising his head up, Mark looked to Ethan as blood trickled from his left nostril. Definitely broke something alright.

Ethan sat up now, no longer leaning back on the one arm as they both sat in their separate thrones of broken glass. Ethan removed his hand from his eye for a moment to examine if there was any blood but there was none, but it was hard to even keep the eye open. Pressing his palm back to his eye, Mark locked eyes with him and seemed frozen to his spot. The air was heavy and it was silent and Ethan wanted to be anywhere but with Mark Fischbach.

“I am so sorry Ethan.” His voice was deep and the adrenaline from the break must have sobered up some part of his brain. Ethan watched the King run his hands through his hair and look at his hands as if he were examining himself from outside now. Ethan couldn’t think, he wanted to leave, part of him wanted to stay, and another part was too afraid to move.

“I know my father’s death caused this reaction, but it does not excuse it.” Mark sniffled and carefully wiped away the blood from his nose. “I do not want this to be me. My father was driven to insanity at the end of his reign, that is not how I wish to start mine.” Ethan would have likely agreed with his words if not for the throb in his eye making his head spin. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I know Your Majesty.” 

“Mark. Just, just Mark. I may be a King but after tonight, I’m hardly a Prince.” Ethan appreciated him owning up to his actions, but there was a level of basic trust that had been broken even if by an accident in a drunken rage. 

“Mark.” Ethan nodded and tested out.

Mark was now King. He was also half dressed, bleeding from one nostril, and on the verge of crying. Ethan knew Mark was broken somewhere before, he just had never realized how deep the cracks went. The Queen’s words echoed in his ears again; even though Mark was offering kindness and a level of vulnerability to Ethan, they had gotten there through painful means. He had ascended as King and he now had to choose where he wanted to fall in this mess. Ethan crawled closer to Mark, the disheveled man scrunching his eyebrows as he always did when he was confused. The man moved to open his mouth in question or perhaps to offer to Ethan to elbow him in the eye when the smaller man hugged him. Ethan chose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments give me lots of motivation to continue writing so thank you to all my regular readers and new ones!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving to those in the US. I hope you guys enjoy! More stuff is planned soon but enjoy a relatively calm chapter before the storm.
> 
> Once more, unedited and written in one go so all mistakes are my own and feel free to roast me in the comments!

The coronation took place the next day. It wasn’t as extravagant as usual, select nobles were invited into the throne room to watch the crown of Kings before it was placed on Mark’s head. Ethan wasn’t even in the room, he stood outside the door, the guards turning a blind eye as the other servants pressed their ear into the door to hear. It was nearly silent inside, the air somber and still not over mourning their former King. The week would still be full of feasts to celebrate his life and services to mourn his death, but the world would carry on even if they weren’t ready for it.

Neither Mark nor Ethan had slept that night. When Ethan had hugged him, Mark had frozen at first but let himself be hugged and returned the embrace after a moment. Ethan was still shaken up but his life would be hell if he were to leave Mark like this, it was in Ethan’s best interest to be there for the Prince as he came to terms with the death of his father and all to come. They stayed there for a while, just hugging on the ground; by the way Mark held on to me Ethan was convinced he was acting as if an anchor. In all fairness, Ethan was pretty sure the new King needed an anchor of any kind right now. 

The alcohol didn’t seem to sit right in his system because Mark pulled away from the hug to throw up again. Ethan averted his eyes and willed himself to not also vomit at the sight. They needed to get cleaned up. Mark was wobbly on his feet but Ethan managed to get him up and walking. Ethan wasn’t the strongest but the past month he had built up what little muscle he could given his small diet. That being said, carrying a drunk and broken down Mark through the castle was a task. He wasn’t sure if they even had a medicine specialist around, and he really wasn’t quite sure where he wanted to go. Naturally, his feet carried him to the tailors station.

The door was open as Madam Tracy closed up for the evening, but seeing the injured men and Ethan’s one functional eye pleading for help, she quickly grabbed Mark from Ethan and ushered them inside. Amy was inside too, Ethan noticed once the doors behind them had been closed. The two women looked panicked at the scene, but Ethan made sure they knew everything was okay. Madam Tracy took care of Mark, setting him against the wall and dabbed a wet cloth against the blood from his nose that trickled into the stubble of his beard. 

Ethan held his eye until Amy was able to quickly rush over and do the same as Madam Tracy, examining for any damage. Other than bruising and his eye being a bright red according to the blonde, he was okay. “Mark did this?” Amy asked, her tone grave and whispered far below what even Ethan could normally manage to hear.

The boy nodded, running his hands up his arms to comfort himself from everything that had happened. “It wasn’t on purpose. Jerked around too fast to throw something and his elbow flung into my eye.”

“Mark is a good man but I cannot pretend to make excuses for his temper. Hopefully this time he sees the consequences of such lashing out.” She mumbled, letting Ethan press the cool fabric to his eye. “He was often the same to me in the beginning, his temper easily set off and he seemed to enjoy sending the tailors ridiculous tasks that were passed to me.” The words Amy spoke were nearly his exact experience in his month at the castle. “I’m unsure of the full reason why, but eventually he comes out. He opens up and lets you in and that Mark is the one worth knowing. This one?” She said, gesturing to Mark wincing in the corner at the pressure Madam Tracy applied to his nose. “This is not Mark.”

Ethan found some comfort in her words that night, and he was eternally grateful for the presence of Amy and Madam Tracy, but tonight was overwhelming. He had chosen to befriend Mark, but the looming threat of him lashing out like that again scared Ethan more than he cared to admit. Amy and Ethan walked to their quarters and Madam Tracy had stayed behind to aid Mark further. Mark never could look into Ethan’s eyes again that night.

The next morning nobody had bothered to retrieve him so Ethan woke up of his own accord. Arion nearly always was there first thing in the morning, but Ethan woke up staring at the ceiling from his usual position on the floor. Arion had settled down a bit now that Ethan had at least moved some of the pillows down with him. Baby steps. Ethan’s eye was still swollen but it throbbed less. Ethan pressed a gentle fingertip to the skin close to his eye and winced slightly at the dull pain that resulted. It wasn’t awful but it wasn’t pleasant. Ethan had fallen asleep in his clothes from yesterday, the typical black pants tucked into black boots, black long shirt with a tight white vest fitted to his body with gold accents for design. 

Outside his door he was immediately met by the numbers of servants nearly booking it down the hallway towards the main corridor. Ethan rubbed at his good eye, combing his hair down with his hands as he attempted to wake himself up. With not much of an idea of what was happening, Ethan followed. Today nobody seemed to stare at him, too busy on their destination ahead to offer any passive aggression to the servant. It was clear after a bit of walking they were heading to the throne room. For a second Ethan considered splitting off to Mark’s quarters but he now understood why he would find nobody there. The coronation. Servants weren’t allowed inside and after a long time of waiting at the door, the knights ushered for the servants to scatter. The dozens of them did in enough time for the nobles to walk out of the room. As they walked, their fancy capes billowed behind them and all of their heads held high with masked expressions. As they left, descending down the staircase, the King himself was the last to file out.

Mark wore the brightest gold and the brightest white Ethan thought possible in clothing. His cape a shimmering gold to match the crown nested into his black hair. The white of his attire matched well with the olive of his skin and Ethan caught himself staring a little longer than strictly necessary. The King had the door closed behind him with a thunderous rumble, the room falling silent except for the nobles filing eloquently out of the castle and on to their everyday lives. “The memorial for the King will be scheduled within the week. You and your masters will be notified.” Mark had always had a loud voice, but something about him being a King made it echo louder than it did before. “I invite you to celebrate his life and honor his memory in serving this Kingdom as I look to serve you.” The speech was over despite there being no declaration of so. Many servants hurried back to their jobs or simply stood leaning against the railing of the staircase for a moment absorbing the reality of the new King. 

Ethan watched this all unfold and turned to look back to Mark who was discussing with a noble boy by the looks of it. The boy was taller, dark blue overcoat tied to his waist with a brown belt. Ethan approached but stayed a distance behind, head held down and averting his ears from the conversation. This did not take very long as the noble boy caught sight of Ethan and gestured towards him as if to alert Mark as well. The King turned around and seemed almost relieved to see Ethan hadn’t snuck out of the castle late at night. 

“Tyler, I suppose now would be the opportunity to introduce you to my servant. Tyler Scheid this is Ethan Nestor.” Mark gestured between the two of them.

What surprised him the most despite the King even addressing and introducing him to someone, was that Tyler flashed a big smile and bowed his head in greeting. Ethan hurriedly did the same, his cheeks warm as he returned the small smile. “Pleasure to meet you.” Ethan said quietly.

“Much nicer than your father’s servant,” Tyler laughed, his voice loud, but reminded Ethan more of the loud way Wade spoke versus Mark. God’s bones, Ethan had so much to catch Wade and Felix up on. “I won’t take up any more of your time, my King.” The last part seemed to be added for humorous effect. Mark hid a smug smile with a cough, and nodded. Tyler seemed to be a good friend of Mark’s, which was a rare sight to be sure.

Side by side now, the King and Ethan watched as Tyler headed down the stairs, hurrying down and jogging to meet up with the nobles that had left before him. “The King has friends.” Ethan murmured quietly so only Mark could hear, and the taller man gave him a quick eye roll as response. “What is the schedule today Your Majesty.”

Mark still didn’t look comfortable with the title, but it wasn’t his place to use anything else out in public. Mark frankly didn’t look comfortable with anything that was happening, the fur lined cape attached to his shoulders or the heavy crown that threatened to slip with every move. Mark was known to be cold but temperamental, so the entire kingdom was in a state of holding its breath wondering how their new King would be. Ethan himself was in the same state for the time being. 

“Nothing you yet must concern yourself with.” Mark said, looking around his castle, his emotions unknown to Ethan but closely resembled anxiety mixed with fascination. The King was still grieving his father, but he had no time. He would never have time to grieve until the fine details were sorted. “I am to meet my mother in a moment to discuss the transition further. Then I am to meet with the head of the merchants guild in town, followed by father’s council.” Ethan nodded as he spoke, his hands held together in front of him as he studied the floor as if he were to be tested soon on its features. “I will need your presence before dinner and after. I expect to see you at my quarters punctually.” It was less of a friendly comment as the rest, but Ethan expected very little kindness past what he had seen the night before. 

The King left and Ethan decided it was time to write home. The library had the stationary, but he was unaware of where the letter should be addressed to arrive. Ethan found himself in a rather comfortable library chair in the back right hand corner. Thankfully due to the shelves of books to his exposed sides, he was enclosed in a private nook. He used the private nook to press his head into the table and groan slightly as he struggled to remember how to spell certain words. Writing had never been his strong suit. Still he persisted, taking two pages to briefly paraphrase the events the month had brought. The ink was sloppy and many words hard to decipher but he hoped his parents would be able to make it through. He rolled the paper up and wrote the names of his parents on the seal of the scroll. The mail to be sent out of the castle was given to the servant posted behind a small desk in the corner, organizing books however she did. 

Clearing his throat, he handed the scroll to the girl who took it without a second's hesitation and returned to her work. Ethan inched back a bit at her wiping around, but thanked her with a small nod and hurried off. The rest of the day was spent stumbling around anxious as to what the evening would bring. Mark had meetings all day and would likely be overwhelmed and stressed again, which went historically bad for Ethan nearly every time. To Ethan’s surprise he never ran into Arion all day, but the more he considered the first time Mark had ever yelled in his presence, Ethan realized his elder was likely keeping the Queen company. Ethan dearly hoped Mark wasn’t entirely correct about their relationship. That would put Arion in a very bad light. Arion was an ass, but he wouldn’t ever murder his own King. Right?

Mika and Amy were busy sewing gowns and coats for the memorial of the King, so he was unable to visit them unfortunately. Supper that evening was to be a feast so Felix was also tied up for the time being. Wade was busy getting Chica and Mark’s armour ready for their venture out during the parade ceremony through the town and outer ring. The kids would throw flowers and the people would give their luck to their upcoming King as per tradition. Mark hated tradition, but still he upheld what he knew he had to.

Ethan by now had already scoped out most of the castle, he had become familiar with nearly everything except the lower reaches he wasn’t allowed to enter. He wandered often, which helped in discovering new routes he hadn’t known before and it also helped him think. The swelling had gone down a fair bit but his eye stung and light yellow bruises framed his eye like a powdered makeup the noble ladies would wear. He wasn’t quite sure what to think about first, he couldn’t think of a topic he would like to consider that wouldn’t cause even more confusion or a potential breakdown. He wasted the day sulking in the library again, leaning off the balcony as the sunset on a very surreal day. Today was just settling in, what was to follow would not be as calm and free. This meant an increased workload for Ethan and Mark both; benefits of being the King’s personal servant.

Supper was served at some point but Ethan found himself crippling further and further in on himself. There were a million thoughts to think and he knew he should get off the balcony and get to Mark’s quarters but his body was unable to move. It were as if his body and mind refused to cooperate and Ethan was a slave to them both. It became cold, the wind blowing as it did every night, but other than curling up to keep warm he didn’t move. His eyes fixed on some point far into the horizon that was no longer there nor ever existed in the first place. It was so quiet but Ethan’s head screamed with a thousand thoughts he couldn’t think and a million anxieties that made him shiver more than the cold wind did.

“Ethan?” The voice called from behind him. For the first time in hours Ethan was forced to react physically to something, quickly stand up and blinking back tears caused by his panic as well as his lack of blinking. Turning around, arms still wrapped around himself, Ethan noticed Mark standing at the opening to the balcony. 

“Apologies Sir, I must have lost the time.” Ethan rushed, moving over quickly to Mark waiting for the yelling to start or to be assigned some harsh task. Neither of which came. Mark reached out his hand towards Ethan’s shoulder resting it gently there, squeezing it gently to tether him in. The younger man blinked in surprise, tensing at the touch for a bit but resting once he saw Mark looked completely calm.

“It’s okay. You are freezing cold man, how long were you lost in time?” Ethan only shrugged, not completely knowing how long but knowing it was hours. He had dissociated before but never with that level of panic festering behind floodgates before. Mark pulled him towards the entrance, dropping Ethan’s shoulder only once the King was sure Ethan would soon follow. Mark looked stressed. Ethan had slept a little but Mark looked far from living. His nose was still a light purple, looking painful anytime he touched his face. 

“Your nose,” Ethan began, voice quiet as they walked side by side to Mark’s quarters. “How is it?”

“Likely much better than your eye.” Ethan could tell by the way his eyebrows bunched together and his face became graven that he still felt bad. Part of Ethan’s brain said good, it was about time something affected him; the other half wanted so badly to reassure him everything was okay and he forgave him. Ethan couldn’t decide which one to go with by the time they reached the door of Mark’s quarters.

It started just like the night after their first fight, silence that clung to their very skin. The candles burned low, Mark’s silhouette and golden cape really the only visible details he could make out. Ethan didn’t hurry today, much too tired and beyond mental capacity to rush right now. He had calmed down from what he had felt earlier, the rushing and chaos inside his body unable to move or release, but he really just wanted to cry and take a nap. He would shake all this off soon, but this past week has taken a mental toll on him.

“I lied.” Mark started and Ethan considered jumping off the balcony to avoid any more confusing statements.

“About?”

“What I said yesterday. When I said I never wanted you here.” Ethan was folding the clothes on the opposite side of the bed but Mark had paused putting on his nightshirt, watching his servant work. “I wasn’t given much of a choice in the matter, but you turned out alright.”

Something about the phrasing of that was odd, but Ethan chalked it up to be the result of the gamble of randomly choosing a boy from a crowd of a hundred or so. “Thank you Your Majesty.”

“Mark.”

“Mark.” Ethan nodded at the correction but never stopped his job until he had a question of his own. He picked up the basket and found the courage to stare up at Mark who still had yet to do his one task of putting on a shirt. “Why me? “

“Are you asking why I chose you?” Mark asked, finally starting to slide the shirt on, strands of his long hair falling in his eyes and Ethan resisted every urge to feel how soft his hair was. Ethan rested the hand not holding the basket against his hip and raised his eyebrow in a tone of sarcasm. Mark gave a small laugh before answering, “Right of course. Well I thought it would be obvious.”

Ethan once more considered the balcony because the King seemed quite incapable of answering cohesively. Oh the rhetoric of a King, Ethan grumbled mentally. “What do you mean?”

Mark’s goofy smile changed more into a curious expression, one eyebrow raised and smile morphing into a frown. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Mark I am confused what do you mean.”

The King considered this for a moment before shaking his head, rubbing mindlessly at his wrists and looking away for a moment. “Nothing. I just, you..” Mark gave a hum as he tried to find the words he was looking for. “You weren’t afraid of me. I know very little of what the outer ring thinks of me, I know my father often spoke ill of those outside the wall so I could only base my assumptions of that. Some stared and shook, and others stood up straight and tried to look of use. You were different.”

Ethan considered this for a moment, forgetting his confusing words of why he didn’t already know, and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I have done nothing to warrant a thank you, if anything that pleasure should belong to you. I am not a perfect man but I will do what I can to do better than what my father did.” Mark sat on the bed as he was now ready for bed, staring at the floor below his feet. Ethan moved to sit beside him , his mind allowing him one clear thought to instruct his feet to move. “I get angry and I will make mistakes. I do not claim otherwise. I wish to be better but there is much I have seen and much I know I have to do that I do not have the strength to handle. So I have a proposition for you Ethan, if you are to accept.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking besides him to the man a foot away from him on the side of the bed. “What king of proposition.”

“Friends.” Mark held out his hand as if to offer a contract.

“I’m still your servant Mark. I still have to obey your every whim and desire.”

“But,” Mark said, drawing out the T as he spoke. “We could also be friends.” Ethan looked very skeptical, staring down at the offered hand to him for a moment before Mark chipped in again. “You can tell me to shut up with being thrown into jail for conspiracy against the throne.” Ethan shook his hand instantly and Mark couldn’t help but laugh.

Mark may have been a King, but he was 19. Yet to be hardened by years of war and yet to see the true corruption of ruling a kingdom creep into his mind. Friends. That wasn’t the worst place to be with the King of one of the strongest empires on the continent.  “Friends.” Ethan agreed. There was a silence as their hands let go, the servant standing up and brushing the front of his pants off as he did so. Gathering the basket and once more placing it in its designated region of the bedside dresser, Ethan moved to leave for the night. Mark pulled the covers of his grand bed over himself but right as Ethan was to leave for the night, he called out to Mark from the door. “Mark?”

“Yes?”

Ethan paused, halfway outside the door, face popping in as he held a small candle by its metal handle. “As your friend could I ask of you something.”

“Depends on the something, but I am all ears,” Mark’s words were like a laugh that Ethan no longer hated to hear. Amy was right about him, he thinks.

“I know in the chaos right now it is not possible, but do you think I would be able to see my parents? I wrote them today but,” Ethan trailed off but decided to finish it there. He knew it was a larger request than it sounded.

Mark sighed and rubbed his temples for a second before shrugging, “I will try Ethan, but please understand that request may take some time to come to fruition.” Before Ethan could do his signature small nod and dash away, Mark piped up again. “It will happen, just with time.” Ethan gave a grateful smile and let the door closing between them serve as his farewell. Friends, Ethan almost giggled to himself. It wasn't going to be all snarky comments and laughs shared in the dark hours of the night. It would likely be many nights of handling him at his worst and keeping him in line when nobody was able to tell him he had gone too far. Ethan would have to be Mark's voice of reason in a confusing world where Ethan could hardly be his own. Ethan found himself happy at the thought of being his friend, but the boy did not yet know the cost that friendship would come at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <<<<33333 Thank you all for comment and theorizing in the comments, it makes my day reading and responding to you all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is very angsty but I promise the ending is worth it

Ethan wasn’t sure when it started to get bad, but there were a few times he knew things were getting worse. He chalked it up to the stress of the job. He chalked it up to the added pressure upon both the King and himself. The excuses for the events that plagued him fell like dead birds at his feet. It had been a year. A year since he had entered the doorsteps of the castle dragged by the steady hands of a man older than dirt. Now Ethan stood in front of a mirror as he watched himself drag a shaky hand down his own cheek. He had grown into his features more, his weight gain being the contributor there. A small unshaven stubble hinted underneath his nose, and by all rights and means he looked better. The one feature that obscured from his slicked hair and well dressed fashion, was the lack of existence behind his eyes. The light flickered out.

Mark held true to his word in becoming better, fighting back the rage spells he could and letting Ethan coax him down when he couldn’t hold back the rage. Mark would shake in place, his fists clenched at his sides as his breaths filled the room with the heat of his anger. Ethan would always grab the clenched fists, rubbing his thumbs over the others' knuckles and standing in silence until Mark was able to look up at him. He was hesitant to accept the others touch at first, always jerking away but forcing himself to accept the others presence to calm him down. Mark would rant about the goings of the kingdom, Ethan always there to nod and be there. There was nothing out of the usual with this for a long time. Mark eventually even grew to let Ethan hug him, the servant copying exactly what his mother would do anytime he would boil with the rare rage he ever had. Ethan absorbed the stress of the King like a sponge cleaning spilt wine on a broken oak table.

Mika grew to have her own sorrows. As did Wade and Felix. It was an endless cycle of absorbing the feelings of those around him and tucking away what he felt. If anyone were even to have asked he would not know what to say. Ethan hadn’t had time to consider how he had felt. Mark had lost his father, become King, and turned 18 in the same span of time. Ethan had even forgotten his own birthday had passed oh so many months ago until at supper once, Amy reached forward and asked him what he had done the previous year so she could outdo it for the next. He hadn’t celebrated the last and now he was turning 19 in a matter of weeks. Ethan could tell from the way her smile curved down gently, she could tell there was a growing gap in Ethan’s being.

Mark had never spoken again regarding him going to see his parents, and Ethan was always filled with anxiety at the last minute right as he worked up the courage to once more ask. His mother had written him back when she was able, and spoke of the life the money had gotten them. They had their own shack now, not so much nicer but the roof never leaked and the warmth of the fire stayed inside for longer. Ethan knew that whatever he was feeling, it would have to wait until he could further stabilize his parents. He couldn’t risk falling apart now when he had finally worked out the perfect system. Support Mark, do Mark’s tasks, end the day, support his friends, sit in agonizing silence alone for hours until he fell unconscious at the foot of his bed holding his knees as if praying mindlessly for something to help. It was day after day.

The King wasn’t perfect, but he grew to be appreciated very quickly. The King’s court remaining from Mark’s father’s reign approved highly of him. He was an ass and temperamental, but he was passionate and charming beyond belief. Another feeling among many that Ethan thought best to suppress given the state of his life. That warm feeling in his stomach he got when looking at Mark bloomed by the third month of their agreed friendship. Mark had taken him out one day and taught him to ride Chica. The horse was of a friendly nature, but it’s large stature was intimidating to be sure. Nevertheless, he learned quickly and soon formed a close bond with not only Chica but another stable horse the handlers called Spencer. Spencer became to Ethan what Ethan wished of everyone else. Mark would often catch him sleeping at the pen, brushing and talking to Spencer all night and would carry him back to his quarters without a word or asking for thanks. That’s when the warm feeling began to bloom.

Despite the way he burned himself out daily, Ethan cared for his friends and he was sure they cared deeply for him. This wasn’t a matter of feeling unloved, it was a matter of using himself as the kindle wood to warm others. The servant had always been of a hyper nature, the growing freedoms he obtained after becoming friends with the King were a great gift no doubt, and he was known around the castle for being a friendly face despite the glares and envious snips he received. Mark would often tease him at night as Ethan aided him in undressing, saying that the Queen often enjoyed hearing the stories Ethan would tell the children of the castle that would visit him in his free time at the library. Just like Amy, Ethan had made a home here. What a shame then, the warmth he had discovered smoldered now. 

Arion gave up when Ethan wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning. It often took hours of knowing he needed to get up before he found it in himself to arise. Mark never complained about this, but as the frequency occurred, the King’s eyes would squint ever so slightly at the boy before him. “Ethan are you okay?” Ethan nodded. Mark didn’t look convinced, but the King hardly had time for matters such as him, Ethan reasoned to himself.

It continued on like this. Hours became days, days became weeks, and weeks dragged into the tangible nothingness of running himself into the ground. Arion was the first to say anything before Ethan finally broke. Arion and Ethan were out at stables, Ethan gathering Mark’s riding gear to deliver to Wade before he continued his other tasks for the day. “I know that look.”

Ethan paused to look over to the elder, leaning against a wooden fence post to look at the approaching winter sky. “What do you mean?”

“Tell me Ethan, how has your time at the castle been?”

“A gift.” 

“I am not asking you to repeat what I told you to say, I asked you. You, Ethan. Ethan Nestor.”

Ethan blinked unsure of what he was supposed to say. Everyone had a script of what Ethan was supposed to say to them. Shaking his head, the servant shrugged. “Well, I suppose.” The words fell flat.

Arion gave a grunt, probably the closest Ethan’s heard to him laughing. “You are doing what I did.”

“What would that be Arion.”

Arion’s stance became more rigid, turning to Ethan as if to burn holes into his skull from eyes veiled and hidden from the world. “You are work. You are support. You are doing much better than anyone would have considered you to do given your background and often disagreements with the King. Your friends speak highly of you and many of the head figures of this castle praise your kindness. You have done to Mark what no one has.”

“I have given the King nothing.”

“Then you are more blind then I previously assumed.” Arion was complicated like that, one moment he was praising him and with the same breath degrading him. Ethan was almost impressed by the attitude change he could initiate in the blink of an eye. Mark’s father must have had a whopper of a time with him, Ethan grumbled mentally.

“Is there a point to this discussion Arion. I do not feel in the mood for a lecture today.”

“Tell him. Tell him doing this is breaking you.”

“Arion I am fine.”   
“I wasn’t.” Arion’s voice was tight and Ethan found himself frozen with his arms full of riding gear. “I do not speak out of ignorance Ethan that is not something in my nature. I broke. Further and further everyday until by the time they knew what was happening there was a husk. You recover, you move on, but you lose something in yourself Ethan. You do not need to break yourself to prove you are of use to your friends and those around you. I am here to advise you, that is my job. If you do not wish to take it, that is your own precedence.”

That was the first time anyone had looked into Ethan’s voice and told him he was breaking. The words seemed right, but it felt awful to think he was. He loved his friends and they so clearly cared for him but this, this wasn’t healthy. The words Arion used, saying he didn’t need to prove he was of use, clung to his very fabric. They festered for weeks, months. 

Ethan knew it was at its worst now. He dragged his hands over the face staring back at him and it was hollow. Rumors of Rifton starting a war had him anxious over Sean, Mark was stressed about where his kingdom’s allegiances were if Rifton were to start a war with another country, and Ethan would give anything to cry and not exist for just a day. Something new happened everyday, he missed his family, and by god’s bones Ethan just wanted to be left alone. He lasted through most of the day though, doing his tasks and even visiting Mika who had finished sewing him a new fur lined sweater for the coming winter. Ethan kissed his friend gratefully on the cheek and showed his appreciation of the gift. He didn’t linger with her for too long, wishing her a farewell with a deep bow and she returned it with a playful laugh and an outlandishly low curtsy. Ethan loved his friends. The pain in his heart felt as if he were letting them down, when all they showed was sympathy and concern for their friend. 

Mark was at the garden that night, examining the roses before they began to wilt with the coming frost. The king was already mostly changed for the evening, electing his standard thin white cloth shirt and black linen pants tucked into his high leather boots. His sword that was usually strapped to his side set beside him on the wooden seat. Ethan stood at a distance and cleared his throat as to not startle the King with his presence. The library was to Ethan what the garden was to Mark. This worked as usual, the King smiling upon seeing his friend and ushering him over to sit beside him.

“Good evening My King.”

“One day you’ll use Mark first try.” The King laughed. 20 suited him well, the remainder of the distinctly teenage features molding into what Ethan figured would be the man and King to come. 

“I would like to see the day.” Ethan joked back and for a moment he could feel the warmth before it faded away like the last flicks of a dying candle. It caused him to physically shiver beside Mark, his eyes closing tight for a brief moment.

Mark gave a small chuckle, “Cold?” Before Ethan could shake his head no and offer a forced laugh, the King wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him close as if to offer warmth.

“Mark you smell awful.” Ethan groaned, wiggling to free himself to no avail as the man simply held him down tighter. He did, however, allow Ethan to adjust his head enough to give in and rest on the others shoulder. It was warmer than the outside air there, and he could hear the rumble of Mark’s chest as he laughed. It had been his first near hug in a long time and that alone nearly had him break down. However, what followed next is what truly did him in.

“Thank you.”

“For what, Mark?”

“I’m not sure,” Mark admitted with a small shrug that also lifted Ethan’s head. “Everything I suppose.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and pretended he wasn’t scooting closer to Mark to accept the heat more willingly. “Descriptive.”

“Oh the servant boy wants a list does he?” Mark’s laugh was mildly intoxicating. “You are kind. You work hard and are always helpful. You make me laugh and I can assure you that is a rare commodity right now. I wake up everyday with Rifton’s ward threatening to start war with every country and every city in the continent and you somehow make me laugh. I hurt you and still often treat you as below my feet and still every morning and every night you are there.” Ethan’s eyes pricked with tears threatening to break out, but he held strong. “You are amazing.”

“I’m paid to do half of the things you mention.” Ethan said, his voice quiet to hide the small shake.

“I’m sorry but half the nobles are envious to have a servant who bothers to make sure every last thing is perfect with a fail ratio of 0.” Ethan laughed a small bit at that, one tear sliding down his left eyes and trailing to his nose. 

“Maybe they should try to offer friendship instead of beatings.”

Mark nodded in agreement. “Maybe they should.” He looked over and saw Ethan’s red eyes, a small trail of moisture across his face. “Ethan?”

Ethan rubbed his eyes a bit and shook his head, leaning up in the moment of Mark’s distraction to pull away. “I’m okay.”

The concern from the time before where Mark had believed those words and walked away was back, but stronger than ever. This time he didn’t leave. “Ethan?”

Ethan wished he could have given an elaborate speech. He wished he could have detailed all of his problems to Mark in detail and let him know the thoughts that had plagued his attention for months. Instead, all that came out was a choked, “I’m sorry.”

Mark hugged him before anything else. They had hugged before, mostly to calm Mark down after his temper rose, but Mark never initiated. Mark held him tightly, and Ethan sobbed. Ethan, who was content to cry alone and deal with the consequences of burning out, sobbed into the shoulder of the King of all people. The King of the entire continent. Yet Ethan was here crying harshly into his shoulder, as if their titles and roles weren’t a thing. Ethan felt the shaking in his own shoulders, the tears burning as they raced down his face, and Mark rubbing small circles into his back. It hurt to cry like this but as he emptied, the better it felt.

Ethan hiccuped a bit, trying to speak and inform Mark he was fine, but the older man hushed him and continued the endless circles on his back to calm him down for once. He felt awful wasting his time like this, but Mark treated it like he had all the time in the world. “I’m sorry, you have better things to be worrying about right now.” Ethan said, sniffling and rubbing his eyes with his sleeves. 

“I don’t think I do, no,” Mark said with a small smile, a laugh dying at his lips.

“I appreciate the sentiment Mark, I do. But you are running a kingdom. A whole continent.”

Mark’s hands still weighed on his shoulders and they did not move as they continued to speak. “Yet I am still here aren’t I? I did not give any extra conditions when I asked you to be my friend. That is the highest title I have, and frankly Ethan Nestor the very earth itself could form an authority made of the crust and rock beneath our feet and strip every aspect of my being away once more into the particles formed by God’s own hands, and that would be nothing compare to having lost you as my friend.”

The warmth was no longer just a heat in the pit of his stomach, it was boiling in his veins. Ethan almost started crying again, looking at Mark in the eyes with an intensity he had never had the courage to have and knowing he was completely, utterly, and devastatingly in love with Mark Fischbach.  “The King was a poet all along,” Ethan choked out in a small laugh, the heat in his cheeks burning. 

“Only when I truly feel like it.” Mark laughed, pulling Ethan in for another hug and this time neither were eager to leave it. Ethan had said before the library was his comfort place, where he felt safe and at peace; he had now decided to change the location of that aforementioned space. The night was cold, and when Ethan opened his eyes he could make out the trimmed rose bushes slightly in the darkness. Mark was like a rose, Ethan decided then and there as he was wrapped in the comfort of the other’s arms. Red, bright, brilliant, but covered in thorns. Ethan had helped, but Mark was Mark.

Mark was a King. He would rule a Kingdom with a Queen of his own by his side, he would have children that Ethan would watch grow. He would watch Mark’s brilliance and charm as he did now, in the cold and admiring from afar. Mark was a rose in the way it was beautiful to admire but once you pick it and pretend even for a moment that it belonged to you, it would wilt away. Mark felt nothing but brotherly compassion for Ethan, and Ethan was okay with that. He was okay as long as that meant Mark would be in his life. Ethan felt the last tear of the night drip down his cheek and disappear as did the last bit of flickering thoughts of Mark.  Ethan pulled away with the thankful smile, eyes still puffy from the crying. Mark returned the smile and ruffled the boys hair, brown tufts bliding his vision now. They shared a laugh. Holding Mark would forever hold that connotation with that rose, everyone will be full of admiration for the man, but pain in the future that would never happen. The servant found it so painfully cruel. So painfully cruel to have been forced to serve a man he hated only to grow to let tears slide at the thought of a future without him. It had only been a year. 9 left until he was no longer obligated to stay. Would he stay like Arion or would he be the first to leave unable to withstand the future? 

The two returned to the heat of the castle after a moment, and part of Ethan wished he had never gone into the garden. Ethan thanked Mark profusely the rest of the night as Mark was settled into bed. Mark refused to hear it, glad to have Ethan finally letting things out and not penting everything up. Ethan knew he would never forget Mark grabbing his arm before they parted to say, “I will always be here.” He would never dream of plaguing Mark with more troubles, but the words lifted his heart up higher than they had been for months. Ethan couldn’t help the thoughts of Mark’s arms lingering around his shoulders that followed him into his dreams that night. After all, Ethan was a dreamer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There may be progress but keytag in this is slowburn, these boys still have a long way to go. Thank you for reading and as always your comments and suggestions make my day.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl not much happens in this more than foreshadowing and lots of Mark and Ethan talking, that being said next chapter a lot begins to start rolling so get ready

Ethan found the days following to be back to a beat similar to the ones before his spiral. He found his smile much brighter and his friends all returned it eagerly glad to see Ethan back to some state of normal. There was a dull pain throbbing in the back of his head still, the revelation of his growing feelings for Mark like a painful reminder. That would not, however, stop him from living his life; especially when he had so much more to smile about. It had taken a week but Mark had by some chance managed to clear an entire day off his schedule without Ethan’s knowledge for a special secret.

Ethan moved to open the door to enter Mark’s quarters in the morning, dressed and ready to go in thick black clothing to conserve heat. Before he could even heave the door open, Mark burst open the door with the biggest grin spread over his face. “Good you’re ready to go!”

Ethan wasn’t sure whether to blink first or process what Mark was doing as he shook Ethan’s shoulders quickly and moved to push past him into the hallway. The King was dressed but nothing like usual, he wore a conservative cape of black and rather plane under clothes. He looked noble but wore nothing of the Kingly wardrobe. “Go where My King?”

“I’m sure you would like to know would you not.” Mark turned to briefly walk backwards, hands held out in a grandiose manner and quickly slipping around the corner as Ethan stood frozen in place with his math nearly agape. This man would surely be the death of him. Sighing, Ethan began to jog to catch up the distance. Mark had since slipped on a tudor cap that concealed his face and he was still pushing ahead through the corridors. Ethan surprisingly had a decently hard time keeping up with the King’s pace. As Ethan trailed behind he could watch as the servants did a double take not at first realizing the man booking it through the castle was their King. It was almost amusing watching the servants he had grown to recognize throughout his year there stumble back and bow as the King passed. Mark waved them off as he walked, typical Mark, Ethan thought to himself. 

They massed through the main corridor and out through the middle fork to exit the castle. Mark’s pace slowed enough to where Ethan could catch up without straight up running and Ethan took a deep breath as he was finally beside the King. Thank goodness Mark could handle himself and didn’t depend on Ethan as a guard because Ethan would have been quite terrible really. The front of the castle came into sight as they passed by other knights, dressed in their typical armour and posted with upright posture by the doors. They gave the knights salute to Mark who quickly returned it but was very clearly on a mission. 

“Care to tell me now where we are going?” Ethan asked, walking a few paces faster now to be able to turn and look into Mark’s face. The King gave a smug smile but made no move to answer the poor’s servants question. It was freezing cold outside and it really hit Ethan the moment he stepped out. If only the King had mentioned they would be out and about today and he would have worn a cape as well; his thicker fabric was now a wise choice at very least. Snow had begun to fall, but not enough to stick on the ground in massive abundance, it created lots of mud and sludge throughout the stone streets, but the white freckled the tops of the large homes and the tops of wooden fences. Ethan was almost excited to see the town during the winter and Ethan had to admit he would like to spend more time in town in general if he were given the time. Utheral was a very safe place due to the walls, but walking alone at night especially during the winter was never the most brilliant idea. 

It took about half a mile of Ethan rubbing at his arms to keep warm before he grumbled again to Mark, “I would have appreciated a word of warning my King.”

“Oh dear,” the other admitted, moving a lock of black hair out of his face that had fallen out of his ponytail. “Forgive my ignorance. Would you like my cape then?”

Ethan shook his head, “No but I do appreciate your kindness.” He of course did want the cape but he was much too anxious to actually admit to that. Sometimes it was better to freeze rather than admit to wanting something that would inconvenience anyone else, at least according to Ethan. Mark didn’t seem to buy this however and gave a deep laugh before unclipping his cloak and tossing it at the younger man who had but seconds to grab it before it hit the dirty road below.

The brunet would chalk the red in his cheeks up to the cold weather and his prior lack of cape. Ethan gave a shy but grateful nod and wrapped the heavy fabric around himself thankful for the new warmth as they continued. Mark started talking at some point and Ethan was listening at some point, but as Mark began rambling about the architecture of the Kingdom throughout the eras, Ethan began to doze off mentally to amazing thoughts of absolutely nothing. “Ethan?” Mark asked which startled Ethan back into his physical form.

“Oh apologies my King, I am distracted today.”

“I do believe it requires more speech patterns to say My King then it does to say Mark.” The older Mark got, the deeper his laugh had become and Ethan would deny ever noticing the subtle differences. 

Ethan gave a small smile in an attempt to hide his own small laugh. “We are currently in the heart of your Kingdom with the occasional passerby. How do you think your people would take to your servant addressing you as such. God’s bones I do believe maybe I should be the King if I have to remind you.”

“Perhaps one day you can challenge me to a dual and claim the throne.” Mark teased.

“I knew you to tease Mark but please, my arm’s have the strength of wet bread.” They both shared a laugh at that. Not many shared the road with them today as they walked the path, which was good especially given their current behavior. Ethan didn’t want to imagine what the repercussions of goofing off in public with the King would be.

Mark squeezed Ethan’s upper arm with his thumb and forefinger and shrugged, “Much stronger than when you first arrived, I believe there has been progress yet.”

“Amazing what eating a meal will do for your body mass might I say.” The two smiled and Ethan could actively feel the stinging in the back of his mind at the thoughts of Mark had been keeping at bay since their night in the garden. The roses were wilted now. Ethan couldn’t help but laugh a little harder as Mark did his signature big smile but simultaneously also laughing with his eyes clenched shut. “You have the most peculiar laugh.”

“I liked the conversation better when we were making fun of your soggy arms.”

“I said they were _like_ wet bread, not that they were soggy.”

“That’s better,” Mark grinned again much to Ethan’s dismay. The shorter man rolled his eyes and snuggled the cape tighter to him. The King seemed to be doing fine without the cape but he was sure that Mark had become a master at masking whatever it is he felt at this point. Ethan had begun to enjoy his company and the smallest part of his brain dared him to consider that the King may likewise enjoy his presence. The smallest part of his brain was kept the smallest for a reason.

They were a mile in when Ethan began to remember certain landmarks. Ethan had never ventured far into the city after his first day over a year ago. Now he was flushed with memories of first walking down this road being marched besides Arion up to the castle. They weren’t too far from the exit of the Kingdom, the gate of the walls nearly in sight. Ethan decided to bet against them actually exiting the Kingdom, Rifton had begun to threaten Utheral but days ago, their ward having sent a letter by pigeon to escalate the tension. Rifton was under Utheral’s rule as were all strongholds and cities in the continent, but tension rose everyday as Rifton began to form an unspoken rebellion. Many spectualted the Kingdom was at its weakest as Mark was still adjusting to the throne, but the rumors and quiet whispers in the night had not branched beyond just those quiet words.

However, much to Ethan’s surprise, as the gate to the kingdom came closer and closer into eyesight he could not help become mildly anxious at the others' plans. The King had cancelled a fair amount of important hearings to take some sort of day trip and Ethan was more and more boggled as the morning dragged along. “Mark where are we going?”

“I made you a promise a long time ago. I thought it was about time I was true to my word.” Ethan’s eyes went wide in an instant. He couldn’t possibly be referring to what Ethan thought he was. The ever so slight rumbling he could feel below his feet left no room for wonder as the gates before them were sliding just far enough open to let two people exit the walls into the outer kingdom. 

Ethan paused where he stood, quite a few feet away from the exit. Pressing his heels into the ground to distract himself from the rush of emotions he began to feel at once. “Are you serious?”

“No of course not, I am fooling you. I have begun to take up jestering in my free time.”

“Mark.” Ethan’s eyes pleaded, his hands shaking at what this could mean. “Please.”

“Yes, Ethan. It took a bit to track down the new home your mother lives, but you will be visiting her today. I will also be taking the time to vi-” Mark never finished his words as Ethan practically threw himself at his master in a large hug. They nearly slipped due to the wet stone beneath their feet but Mark managed to stabilize them in time. 

“Thank you.” Ethan whispered out, arms wrapped around the other’s torso, the cape no longer covering his arms but the warmth in his chest right now could burn down a forest.

While he couldn’t see Mark’s face during the hug, he knew Mark understood his happiness when he squeezed him back before pulling away before the hug lingered long enough to become weird. “As I was saying before I was jumped,” he teased with a laugh. “I would live to actually walk around the outer ring, I think it is important to see everyone whom I am leading.” 

Ethan thought that was quite noble of him, but he was too busy ecstatic at the aspect of visiting his family once more. It was nearly unheard of for masters to allow their indentured to write to their families, Andrew was only able to write once every other month in secret; but to allow their indentured to visit their homes? Impossible. Ethan had never heard of it done. Part of him worried what others would think of him returning, many would probably assume he was sent home after all this time. For once, Ethan pushed past his mind racing and thinking things twice over what they needed to be thought. This was a gift. He did nothing to deserve it in his mind, but it was a gift nonetheless.

“Would you like to meet them?” Ethan asked before he could think better of himself.

“Your family?” Ethan nodded.

“If you would like. Then I could give you a personal tour of the outer rings so you don’t wander into the Nelsons’ chicken coops.” Ethan asked, the warmth in his cheeks a mixture of the cold and mild anxiousness about asking the King to meet his parents. 

“I think that can be arranged.” Mark smiled and ushered the other forward, reaching forward to wrap the cape back around Ethan before doing so. Ethan didn’t need to wait around to be told or ushered again. He matched Mark’s pace quickly towards the gate and before he knew it, it was like he had never left. The smell of dirt and smoke filled his nose and the mixture of snow and dirt caking his leather boots reminded him so much of home. 

“I am sorry to say I am unfamiliar with the outer ring as a whole, but I know that according to record your family's new residence is the leftmost side closest to the walls.”

Ethan took off with that. The areas nearest to the gates were the most unfamiliar to him but besides that the streets of the outer ring were like the back of his hand even after the past year. Mark now had to struggle to maintain Ethan’s speed which he mostly maintained as a joke at first before pulling back to give him a small pre-tour. There were not very many people out, but definitely more than there were inside the walls. Many didn’t recognize Mark at first, his tudor pulled down to hide the angle of his eyes. Despite this, those that did recognize the King nearly fell over in shock at seeing him. Mark always gave a small smile and bow as he must, but no words were exchanged. Ethan was worried Mark’s presence would draw unwanted attention, but he continued to show Mark around.

“That house over there is Wade’s,” Ethan pointed out, gesturing to the shack off to their left a bit, it was bigger than Ethan’s was but the Barnes had already had a few of their older siblings go through indenturement so they could afford a nicer place. 

Mark nodded and Ethan could tell he was definitely caught up on something. The smaller man raised an eyebrow at the King as if to ask him what was on his mind. “Does everyone live like this? “

Ethan contemplated this for a moment before nodding, “Well, yes I suppose. Some can afford the nicer homes but the repairs are an even greater cost. They all mostly look like...” The word this was implied with the wave of Ethan’s hand towards the crumbling buildings. The faint stench of wood rot and dirt wasn’t lost on even Ethan who had grown up in those very streets. To many it was dirty, but to him it would forever be home. Mark didn’t react, instead continuing on looking as his servant would occasionally point out another landmark.

They hadn’t walked very far along before Ethan asked Mark a question this time around, “Do you remember how close to the gate it was?”

“Not particularly, but the knights I had sent said it was a quick journey.” Ethan nodded in response to Mark, scanning his environment for some sign of his family or anything else that would hint to them. There weren’t very many houses in decent repair, so Ethan could only assume it was best to begin there. The two walked, boots sludging in the mud and snow falling in small spurts ever so slowly along the way. Ethan had never felt as good as he did returning after the year he had. Ethan was nobody out here and it felt so much more comfortable being where he belonged. Ethan had adjusted to always being watched and spoken about but it definitely wasn’t something was overjoyed about. 

The nicer houses that the outer ring had to offer were strung in a line and Ethan chalked it up to pure intuition alone that he knew which his parents resided in. His parents were always more upbeat than their surroundings and it acted as a magnet to many people. His family wasn’t much, but they were kind and everyone who met them respected them on a very base level. It wasn’t a good life, but it was what they had and Ethan was taught to love it in the moment anyway.It is an attitude Ethan had attempted to maintain throughout his time at the castle even despite the trouble he had faced.

“That one.” Ethan pointed at the fourth house down the line. It was a pale brown compared to the other’s dark rotting wood, the roof looking very unstable but otherwise the house as a hole was a huge improvement from the shack they had lived in before.

“You are sure?” Mark asked as he rubbed his clothes arms in order to maintain a little bit of heat without his cloak. 

“More sure than you are.” Ethan teased as the side of his mouth lifted up in a smug smile before he nodded again. Mark shrugged as he gave in, allowing Ethan to continue to lead the way through the outer ring. There was lots of mud covered wood and debris in the road, but a few pivots and they were at the door before they knew it. Ethan paused with his hand raised ready to knock, watching as his nervous breath billowed into the air before him. There was a bit of nervousness behind his actions, but he pushed through and made himself knock on the door praying to somewhere this was in fact where his parents resided. What a way to come home, no notice and with the King of Utheral in tow.

To his relief, his mother slipped open the door quietly and peaked out to view her youngest son. Her mouth was agape, her brown hair falling into her eyes in shock as to what she saw. The door flung open and behind her was Ethan’s father, standing tall above him and the first to take actual action. He brought his son forward into his arms and hugged him tight, his mother joining after a moment of processing who had knocked on the door. Ethan has a rush of euphoria, the feeling of his parents hugging him like eating the rare sweet he stumbled upon. He almost forgot the man waiting at the doorstep behind him until his mother whispered ever so quietly if that was who she thought it was.

Ethan laughed and pulled away, turning around to look at Mark who looked very awkward standing at the door frame, hands interlaced behind his back. “My King, these are my parents.” 

His parents, standing in their thin and ragged clothes, bowed and curtseyed before the King to show their respects. Mark stepped forward into the home now and gave his typical kingly smile and bowed slightly in return. “I am glad to see I am welcome as well.”

“Of course Your Majesty!” Ethan’s father smiled, already seeming comfortable with the King’s presence unlike his poor mother who looked absolutely terrified.

“Forgive the home Sir, we didn't know there would be company,” his mother scrambled to say, eyes cast down and head locked onto the floor. Ethan had definitely gotten his anxiety straight from his mother.

Mark gave a small chuckle, the sound rumbling throughout the small house, ‘Please Madam, do not fret. I just thought your son deserved a visit after all his hard work.” Ethan’s cheeks noticeably darkened in color but he looked away from the King to hide the fact. Instead he scanned the house, looking at the actual wood floors beneath his feet and the way the snow didn’t trickle through any holes in the ceiling. The walls were ever so slightly threatening to break loose in some areas, but overall it was comfortable. There was a fireplace in the far back corner, two wooden chairs sat before it with a small table between them. Nearby were two very small mats, both with a single feather pillow each. Those were likely an entire month's wage from Ethan and Andrew combined. They were beginning to live comfortably, and it made Ethan so incredibly happy to see that his turmoil had led to this.

“How long are you staying?” His father asked Ethan, turning away from the King. Despite this, Ethan turned once more to Mark with an eyebrow raised to ask the same question back. 

The King shrugged but offered an answer after a moment, “I would like to say a while, but there are things that I must attend to despite me clearing off most of my day today. A few hours at very least. Your son promised a tour of the outer ring and you are by all means welcome to join.” Ethan found himself smiling at Mark brighter than he had ever; for a moment Ethan could have sworn that Mark’s eyes had lingered on his face just a little longer than strictly necessary.

Good news seemed to be on the agenda today, and Ethan’s father was absorbing all of it. ‘This is absolutely wonderful. Thank you so much for the generosity.” Mark gave a humble wave and examined the room as Ethan had. 

Ethan walked to his mother and grabbed her hand for a moment to give a reassuring squeeze, “I see you and Father are doing better.”

She laughed and reached her hands up to squeeze her son’s cheeks. “All thanks to you and Andrew.” Ethan gave a reassuring smile and let her hands slip away from his face. She looked as happy as his father, but there was something behind her eyes that Ethan could not quite place. The servant had felt something off with her since he had first been entered to possibly work for Prince Mark and that seemed to carry over to him now working for King Mark. “How are you?”

With a raised eyebrow once more, Ethan tilted his head while speaking with her, “Well. The castle has been lovely. You would love the architecture.” 

“I am sure I would,” The pain in her voice was not lost on Ethan and deeply confused him more. His mother looked over to Ethan’s father and the King discussing to themselves before she looked back to him with a deeply graven expression. “Whatever they tell you in there, be very wary Ethan Nestor.”

Ethan hardly had enough time to process his mother’s warning before his father moved to join them. “We are preparing a midday meal, would you and the King be willing to stay?” The growl in his stomach betrayed the curiosity at his mother’s words. As if nothing has just happened, his mother nodded with a bright smile that made it look like she hadn’t frowned in decades.

Mark joined them too and rested a hand on Ethan’s shoulder, “We would love to.” Grateful for him responding in his stead, Ethan offered a smile to mask the confusion. He was happy to be home but it was clear more now than ever his mother was hiding something from him. They had always had a very transparent family and so a secret was hardly to stumble upon. This was Mark's first real view at the outer ring and Ethan wanted to make sure that the impression lasted. This was his home and he adored it as much as one could adore a pile of rotting waste, but this was not the life anyone deserved. Mark had a soft heart and was truly compassionate, if anyone were to fix the circumstances those in the outer ring were in it would be Mark. It was an upward battle surely, but the former King did very little to lessen the harsh conditions of those living outside his walls. As Mark had grown this past year he was beginning to lose his reputation for being generally an arse and many began to understand that he had the potential to fix a lot of wrongs that had been ignored in the previous era. Part of Ethan prayed that part of this compassion would extend to those outside the walls after his visit today. Ethan was in no way in any shape to make demands of his master, but maybe heavy implication to a friend could go a long way.

“Great! Let’s eat!” His father declared and Ethan willed himself to forget for a moment and enjoy being around his family. As his mother and father moved towards their makeshift kitchen near the back right of the house, Ethan turned to Mark and gave another grateful smile. Today would be a good day whether it felt like favoring his soul today or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I have begun to draft out future chapters and the average word count per chapter is currently around 3-4k but it will begin increasing quite a significant amount so get ready for some beefy 10k chapters.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! <3
> 
> Edit: Thanks to all who pointed out the typo there at the end ahahahaha anyway carry on lmao


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! So sorry for the break it was finals week. I am officially done so I can get back on that writing grind! Thank you for patiently waiting. This chapter is a bit of a filler in some ways but hopefully begins to start answering some of the questions :)

_~19 Years Ago~_

_wasn’t sure the warmth of her arms was enough to keep the bundle in her arms safe from the bitter cold around her. This point of winter was always the hardest even inside the walls, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like outside the walls. Her mind lingered on thoughts of outside the wall as she hurried up the road towards the castle. The woman wasn’t clothed in her usual extravagant attire and her brown hair wasn’t braided into a crown like all the women’s were these days, instead she was clothed in bed attire with a heavy brown cloak wrapped tightly around her and the bundle she held closely to her chest as she hurried to the castle. The little light available was of no help but she hurried to the castle as well as she could in the dark with the roads piled high with snow. She had to hurry. The Queen would meet her as they did when they were but girls, hidden away in the hidden depths of the castles where she would watch Sunok stare dreamily at the Prince. Oh how she now wished it were still the days before everything was the way it is now._

_The cold of the snow wet the fabric above where her boots covered, the cold seeping past the fabric and seemingly into her bones itself. Nonetheless she pushed on, grunting at the effort it took to trudge through snow and keep the bundle in her arms from crying due to the freezing winter. The woman found herself thankful her home didn’t stray too far from the castle itself, it made the suffering slightly more tolerable being able to look up and see the stone built into the hill just a bit ahead. She wouldn’t be going through the front doors today unfortunately. There was a door not too far away from the left hand side of the front gate, however, it was more of hole with a covering than an actual door. She barely managed to avoid direct notice from the knights stationed near the torches at the front gate, ducking behind wooden carts and market stands to hide herself. This was a private visit; likely her last visit if this meeting were to go as expected._

_She peeked her head around the wooden barrel she hid behind, eyes flickering around to make sure there was no one looking at her before making a quick dash to the side of the castle where a large rock stuck out of the ground in a tight corner or hill and the stone of the castle. The snow had piled up, so using one hand to rock the bundle in her arm, the woman crouched down to wipe the snow away from the metal hinge to open the hatch. The snow was cold and made her hands begin to become stiff, but she managed to find the handle and lift the opening with a groan of the wood. There wasn’t a ladder or a staircase, just a drop. When she was younger the drop was hardly anything to handle, but the older she became the worst it became on her knees. Their hiding spot was hardly ever used anymore, Arion had discovered it some years back and threatened to tell the Prince and Sunok practically begged for his silence. Arion had always had a soft spot for the Queen, neither woman was blind to it but it came in use for keeping secrets; even more so when Sunok became the Queen. Lifting her feet over the edge, the woman peered below and held the bundle in her arms even closer as she allowed herself to drop inside, landing on her knees as she huffed on impact. Groaning she managed to stand up, eyes adjusting to the torch light of the small room she had landed. The warmth sent a small shiver down her back as she managed to stand up and look around to see exactly who she was waiting for._

_“It was always fun watching you drop in like that Annie.” The woman waiting for her spoke, brushing her long black hair off her shoulder, looking down to the young boy beside her who held her hand. The young boy seemed shocked at the woman, Annie, dropping in but simply scooted closer to his mother’s leg and peered out from behind it._

_“ Your wit is endless,” Annie scoffed, shaking the snow off her cloak and stepping further into the heat the lights had to offer. Spotting the boy behind Sunok’s legs she gave a soft smile. “I haven’t seen the young Prince since he was just a baby.”_

_“I apologize for my schedule. My duties increase by the day.” Sunok apologized, eyes cast down at the cracked wood floor beneath their feet. Inside the castle the only way to access the room was via the kitchen, and thankfully given her status the Queen was allowed to freely move._

_“Think nothing of it My Queen.” Annie laughed, running a hand over her hair, her fingers getting caught in the occasional tangle along the way. Shaking out the cold wasn’t an easy task sometimes._

_Sunok laughed and rolled her eyes, “You jest me with your use of titles occasionally.”_

_“Occasionally?”_

_“Okay perhaps more often than not,” The dark-haired woman laughed yet again, peering at the blankets wrapped around what Sunok knew to be the reason for their meeting tonight. “Is that him?”_

_Annie nodded after a slight hesitation, her hands shaking mildly as a fit of anxiousness built up. She hoped her son wouldn’t inherit that trait from her. Pulling out the bundle from inside her brown fur coat, she revealed into the light the small baby she had been carrying through the snow. Sunok stepped forward to see the baby, only stopping when the small hand holding hers didn’t budge. The Queen smiled down at her son and nodded shortly, “It’s okay Mark. She’s a friend.” The boy didn’t say a work, brown eyes open wide at his mother before gently following her lead._

_They both approached, the Queen reaching down to move the fabric from the small baby’s forehead further. She smiled at the child Annie held, looking at the small peach fuzz on the baby’s head and the big green eyes staring up at her. “What did you name him?”_

_“Ethan. It means strong.” Annie said quietly, staring down at her own son with a sense of weary and exhaustion. She had always wanted kids, her and Sunok both as girls would talk about having a family of their own and being able to have their families be close. Things never turned out how they wanted. Annie turned her attention to Mark and kneeled down, letting the young Prince see the baby as well. Mark still hid behind his mother’s leg, but carefully leaned forward to see the baby. Mark was speaking very little but was already ahead in walking compared to many children his age._

_“He’ll need to be strong.” Sunok said grimly as she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Annie glanced up from where she knelt, looking at the way the Queen’s eyebrows furrowed together in the torch light and the frown painted on her features framed by her black hair. The thought Annie had been thinking all night had all but etched itself behind her own eyelids now; it wasn’t supposed to be like this. She looked at the ground below her feet for a moment, looking away from her friend before nodding and standing up._

_“Are you sure?” Annie asked, the tears threatening to break all night had finally begun to prick her eyes like little sewing needles from the castle tailor’s room._

_Sunok didn’t look far from crying either, her eyes ringed with red as her lips shook quietly. “I wish it wasn’t this way Annie. You know I would never ask for you to leave this place unless I had to.” Annie didn’t look up to her yet, tears silently running down her cheek while she stared at Mark, eyebrows furrowed down and mouth scrunched up in a silent sob. The boy looked at her with mild fear but as normal kept silent. “They can’t be together. You can’t be in these walls.”_

_Annie choked back a sob by forcing a cough, blinking furiously to wipe away the tears. She forced herself to fully stand, holding Ethan tight to her chest as he began to stir a bit, likely sensing his mother’s duress. “Maybe he is wrong.”_

_“Mark has already begun to show signs just as his father did. He holds the bloodline Annie. And...And,” Sunok began to fight back her sobs too, holding Mark closely to her leg. “Annie I’m sorry. Mark will reign one day and you know the decision he is to face. It is written in fate itself.”_

_“Sunok, how are we sure that the book is even correct.”_

_“When has it ever? How do you thinka after all these years Utheral has prevailed as it has. It is not for humane Kings and triumph in combat. We know what it is to come with those who sit on the throne.”_

_“Apologies My Queen if I am not quick to believe the whispers and tales of blind men unable to see their world of which they prophesy,” Annie hissed, eyes snapping to her friend as the furrow of her brows moved from sorrow to thinly held anger._

_Sunok did not return the anger, looking at her friend as if pleading for her understanding. “There comes a day when white smoke rises, a child of red shall mark the clash of worlds.” With a single swipe lifts the hair at the nape of Mark’s neck to show a deeply bold red birthmark in a shape similar to an ink splotch. She hissed out the rest of words Annie knew were memorized like the back of her own hand. “It shall be on the day the world becomes shrouded in whispers of war, a child of gold shall mark the end of peace.” Annie didn’t move away when Sunok stepped forward gently reaching forward to the child held tightly in her friend's arms, tilting the baby’s sleepy head to the side to see the same splotch of vibrant gold on the back of his neck._

_The two stared at each other in silence for a moment. Annie had heard the prophecy before, but she wished she could disregard the words. They were the very last words written in the Book of Fate. The throne of Utheral was the only one aware of the book, its existence hidden from everyone, often only being passed from King to King. The book spoke and warned every event good and bad that was to come and as much as Annie prayed to the gods that it would be wrong, she knew what this was. Fate. Sunok and Annie had cried knowing Mark was the child in red. Annie had cried for days after seeing that gold on Ethan’s neck bright as day. She immediately sent the Queen a message relaying the death sentence to her. Annie’s husband Mark and herself would have to leave. They had to try to break the book of fate in hopes that maybe peace could be held._

_“Andrew will miss his friends.” Annie choked out, a small laugh heavy with the tears running down her cheeks as she rocked her child._

_“I know he will. I wish I didn’t have to do this.”_

_“You don’t.” Annie whispered, looking down to the smaller woman with the smallest glimpse of hope she could muster._

_Sunok only shook her head and ran her hand over the front of her gown to wipe away the sweat. “I do. I have to protect Utheral, Annie. I would hope you would understand the need to preserve the peace we have found.”_

_“Burn the book. Who cares if it is the last thing mentioned, my son would never harm anyone. He is a baby Sunok.”_

_“I know. Please Annie understand that I know. I would never ask you to leave Utheral. The outer ri-”_

_“The outer ring? You would rather have us live among the cattle and mud than figure out what this truly means with your friend?” Sunok clenched her free hand by her side, but Annie knew it was over when she began to take small steps back. Small steps backward towards her exit back into the castle. This was it then. Annie used her shoulder to wipe away her tears as her hands were full with Ethan. This night was like the worst dream she could have ever mustered. Mark stumbled back with Sunok, looking around confused and unable to piece together what was happening. Part of Annie wanted to hate the child already, loath what his existence would mean for Annie and her children forever. She could not, however, make herself feel hatred for the little boy with a mane slicked back black hair who looked at her with eyes as dark as the night itself. He was a kid as helpless and clueless as Ethan was even if he was years older._

_“I do not care where you choose to go Annie. You just cannot be within these walls. While Ethan exists, he is a threat to Mark. However,” Sunok paused, halting her walking as well. “We are messing with fate itself. I am no mage or visionary, but if...if Ethan still manages to return inside these walls after this night, I will not stop the actions to come. I am not the only one who does not want Ethan here.”_

_Annie scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, shifting her position a bit to face Sunok better. “Who else knows?”_

_“Arion.”_

_“God’s bones.” The brunette whispered. Arion was the King’s personal servant and hell on earth more often than not. He follows the rules of the kingdom and the throne to the exact engraved letter. If Ethan were to return inside these walls, the Queen may not stop him, but Arion would. Annie knew first hand what it looked like when Arion enforced something and she hoped now that her son would never return inside these walls. Inside the walls that had been her home for her entire life. She never asked for this. They were supposed to be happy. They were supposed to live their fantasy lives as they had once dreamed of as young children. Now they stood in a dimly lit stone room inside the palace, holding their children tight and looking at each other for the last time they likely ever would if fate truly was kind enough._

_“I am sorry.”_

_“I know.”_

_The two fell silent, unsure of what to say and unable to say what they truly wanted to. Annie looked at her baby, his eyes fluttering in an attempt to stay awake as his green eyes stared up at her in wonder as he always did. She loved her son, she loved him more than she loved any kingdom but if there was a chance this could prevent war? Annie would have to take the chance to at least try to do what could be for the greater good. They could go to the outer-ring. They wouldn’t be far from home but just far enough away that the Prince, and eventually the King would hardly ever see the need to go out there. Rifton was ridden with crime and the cities beyond held their own troubles and their own problems. Utheral was their home and they would take it however they could._

_“Goodbye My Queen.” Annie said with a deep bow, her last words falling flat like crumbs brushed from a table. Annie couldn’t help the venom laced into her words despite knowing what was necessary. She needed something to blame whether it was Sunok, fate, Arion, whoever it needed to be to get her through the pain of it all. One day she would understand, but not tonight. Tonight she would stare at her son and wonder what the future had to offer the child. Tonight she would climb out of that hole and return home in the freezing cold to confirm to her husband they were to leave at once. Tonight she would pack up her family with little to none of their earthly possessions and leave the only place they have ever known as the wind blew the cold of the snow down to their very core. Tonight, they would find a nice family willing to share their broken down home covered in mud and wood rot and spend the night. Tonight, Annie would look at the walls and know if Ethan were ever to return, the world as they knew it would be gone forever._

_“Goodbye Annie.” The words were whispered to an empty room. Sunok took Mark into the house and never looked back._

~Present~

“A shame you can’t stay longer.” Ethan’s father whispered in his ear as they hugged goodbye at the gates of the kingdom.

“I know father, I wish I could have stayed for longer.” Ethan sighed, parting from the hug to pat his father on the shoulder. Ethan was very visibly more healthy than he was before, his cheeks were no longer hollow and he had begun to fill out his frame much better than his skinny physique did. 

Ethan smiled and turned to his mother who stood quietly, hands fidgeting in front of her as she stared holes into the ground. She had been acting strange before and after her warning to him that still made exactly zero sense to Ethan’s mind. “I will try to visit again mother,” Ethan offered, laughing a bit as he walked forward to give the woman a hug. She returned it and lifted a hand to touch the back of and almost looked relieved when she felt the patch still holding strong. Ethan pulled away and gave her a confused patch. Why had she grabbed the patch as if to check if it were there? His mother had always said the patch was never to come off or he could risk serious infection due his sickly health growing up. Ethan was never one for medicine so her word was as good as fact most of the time. 

“It was the deepest pleasure getting to meet you both,” Mark’s voice rumbled from behind him but Ethan remained frozen in place, hands on his mother’s shoulders staring at her like she was an object unknown to this world. 

“And I to you, My King.” Both his father and the King bowed as his mother shrugged out of her son’s hands. Ethan had a million questions race through his mind at once but elected to stay silent now as he seemed to be keen on doing nowadays. 

Ethan turned to face Mark who gave Ethan a small smile and gestured his head that it was high time they returned to the castle now. Part of Ethan wished that he could stay forever, just be with his family and avoid anything else this new life he had found would lead him to. A small voice in the back of his head whispered and ushered for him to stay and lead the simple life he had again. He couldn’t though. Nevertheless he was thankful to Mark for allowing him to visit. As close as Mark and Ethan had gotten, Ethan still knew that Mark owed him nothing except for this weak semblance of friendship they held on to. They said their finals goodbyes and headed back towards the gate which they had begun to open to allow them to slip inside. He turned around while entering the large gates, green eyes locking on his mother but she was not staring at him. She was staring at the roads and the houses and everything that she could soak in from inside the walls as if she would never see it again. Ethan paused once beyond the gate while staring at her, eyebrows furrowed as he drew Mark’s cloak around him again as the wind blew harder. 

The worry from before he was chosen. The longing looks. The fake warmth to Mark. Her warning as if she knew the inside. The secret he knew was there but was just slightly too far away for Ethan to reach. As the gates closed between himself and the outer-ring, his eyes widened as he pieced together the first truth he had in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys are thinking so far! As always thank you so much for reading this <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So i started up a side project fic called Safe and Sound thats also Mark/Ethan but supernatural AU so if you guys are interested in that I'll be updating that one whenever I'm not updating this one. I wrote the first chapter and this chapter both in the same night so apologies if my quality of writing is out the window, i'm running off two braincells right now lmao.

“You have been silent this walk and I am beginning to think I have done something wrong.” Mark said as they reached the last stretch of their walk. Ethan sighed and rubbed at his head, his hot breath billowing into the freezing air. 

“No, no you did nothing wrong Mark. I just,” Ethan’s words trailed off as he looked around the path. The path was clear mostly but the sides of the roads were beginning to pile with a thin layer of snow. Winter was definitely approaching quicker by the day. “That visit gave me a lot to think about.”

Mark nodded, never one to pry too much into Ethan’s personal matters for better or worse. They walked in silence for a bit before Mark finally did pipe up. “Your mother didn’t seem too fond of me.”

Ethan gave a sort of bitter laugh, shrugging a bit out of both his own genuine confusion as well as his newly formed act to play dumb until he could manage to wiggle away and become alone to figure out what this all meant. He needed to talk to Amy. Maybe Wade. Hell even Felix could help him figure out the entire load of waste Ethan had just crash landed into. “She tends to be a little...uh abrasive at first.” That was a lie, Ethan’s mother was kind to everyone immediately.

“I wonder where you got it from.”

“Wait hey, I am not abrasive.” Ethan scoffed, side eyeing the King in a joking manner. Mark gave him a smug smile but said nothing further regarding the topic. There was always time to poke fun and jest but unfortunately it was later into the day and more people were out and about finishing their late afternoon tasks. They all stopped and bowed to Mark just the same as those outside the walls. It was the same painting but with different colors. The outside stained greys and ugly browns, the inside painted with vibrant golds and off-white dyes. The contrast of worlds was so great it was nearly a shock to go out and see the outer-ring again after a year. They all deserved so much better than what they had.

Ethan returned to his contemplative state before making the executive decision to act on a shred of impulse, “We need to speak tonight.”

“Are we not speaking now?”

“My King,” Ethan said, eyes graven and staring into Mark’s with a slight hint of exasperation. “I need answers.”

Mark seemed confused, eyebrows furrowed and head cocked to the side to stare at him as they walked. “Answers? Ethan what are you going on about.”

“Before.” Ethan began as he kept his voice low for only the man beside him to hear. “When I asked you why you chose me that day. You said it was obvious. Then said ‘you don’t know, do you’. What don’t I know.”

Mark shook his head, looking ahead the castle looming into view now, still a few minutes walk away. “Ethan I do not believe now is the time.”

“When will it ever be the time? I am done with secrets.”

Mark did not respond at first, keeping silent as he walked for a moment, the only sound being the occasional passerby and the sound of their boots crunching over the thin snow. Within the week that thin layer would likely begin to build higher and higher until it was completely winter and the occasional visit outside would become more rare. Ethan held his breath as Mark moved to speak but the words to come were cut short by a figure clothed in deep blue running towards them from the castle. “My King!”

Ethan and Mark gave each other a shared puzzled look before jogging carefully to meet the person halfway. In less than a minute they were face to face with who Ethan recognized as Tyler who he had met months earlier. “Tyler?” Mark called out as they soon met in the middle and halted.

“My King,” Tyler all but gasped, breathing heavily as he leaned on forward with his hands on his knees. The tall man looked up from where he leaned forward to look at Mark besides Ethan. “My King you must return immediately.”

“Tyler what is wrong?”

“Its Rifton.” Tyler still breathed heavily but he stood up straight, Ethan’s chin tilting ever so slightly up so that he could see Tyler’s eyes. “They sent a declaration via scroll.”

Mark reached forward and lifted his hand up to put his hand on Tyler’s shoulder, the puffy blue fabric of his sleeves pushing down with the weight. “Tyler breathe please. What is it that you speak of?”

“War, My King.” Tyler said, eyes frantic and terror evident. “Rifton has declared war on Utheral. They demand word back by noon tomorrow.” Mark’s nature became tense and graven, his light and fun demeanor completely gone from before. Mark simply nodded, eyes cast down and jaw clenched. Ethan could tell just from looking at him that his blood was made of panic right now. 

As much as Ethan had hoped against it, the threat of war had been lingering for a long time. Rifton had become unstable under their new ward. It almost wasn’t a surprise to see the declaration already made so soon into Mark’s reign. Despite it not being a surprise, the declaration meant a lot of collateral damage and who knows what else. Rifton was under Utheral’s command, which meant this was the beginnings of a civil war. Utheral had the knights and the walls were damn near impenetrable, but that didn’t seem to stop Rifton. Ever since Mark took over there had been whispers that barely made it to Ethan’s ears of a secret Rifton was keeping. Nobody knew what it was or the threat of said secret, but the rumors remained. It was a dangerous thing to begin your service as King in war. Ethan knew the King’s temper and its ability to be set off even with the improvements made over the past year. This was quite frankly the worst thing that could happen right now. 

“I must go.” Mark gave neither Tyle nor Ethan another glance or another parting word as he all but sprinted back to the castle in as dignified a way as a King could sprint away. 

The two men stood and watched as their King walked away, helpless as to what to do and unsure of what this news would truly mean for their kingdom. There was a moment of silence before either of them spoke, content for a moment to stand side by side facing the castle as the snow gently drifted down in front of their eyes. Ethan looked down at his hands gone white in the cold, and the way the stone of the road was mixed with dirty snow and footprints leading in every direction. The servant had just become used to everything, the way the city worked and how the people manoeuvred. He could only guess what this could mean if Rifton wasn’t controlled.

“Do you think we will go to war really?” Ethan asked Tyler, looking over to the taller man in question. “Does Rifton even know what that means?”

Tyler shook his head, jaw set and eyes deep in question. Tyler was more stoic than Ethan from what the servant could gather from their few meetings, but his eyes always gave his thoughts away. “Yeah I think we will.”

As he furrowed his eyebrows together out of curiosity, Ethan asked “Why do you think so?”

Tyler looked over to him, his chin titled ever so slightly down to look at the servant in the eyes. “I have known Mark since we were both children, that man never turned down a fight. His need to be victorious will kill him faster than that temper of his will.” The noble sighed as he looked back towards the castle. “Rifton isn’t as helpless as they say. They are foolish, but they are not alone. Rifton has supporters, those who are not quite sure our Majesty is worthy of the throne of which he sits.”

Ethan shook his head, “This would mean a civil war would it not?” Tyler nodded in reply, silent and as deep in thought as he was before. “Mark has done nothing but good since his rise to King. He visited the outer-ring today, the former Kings would never catch themselves breathing anywhere outside the walls.”

“Mark was a knight unlike many kings. I am sure he would much rather continue that duty.” Tyler ran a hand over his face. “The blind cannot see reason Ethan. It is a cruel world out there, much worse than where you are from.” The nobleman left shortly after that, heading the opposite way of the castle. Ethan couldn’t stand the cold anymore so he chose to head back to the castle, head swimming with ideas. He knew he had to return his cloak to the King, but that was the only thing he could decide to do before he entered the gates of the castle. 

Not even more than a few steps into the castle, the servant heard a female voice cry out to him from one of the leftmost corridors. Looking up, Ethan spotted Mika staring at him as if she had seen the Holy Ghost himself. “Ethan.” She called out again now that she had his attention. He hurried towards the woman, stopping just short of the hem of her usual grey dress touching the castle floors. She grabbed his hands and looked at him with widened eyes. “Have you heard the news?” 

He held her hands tight to his chest and nodded. This news must be devastating to a lot of people. Growing up outside of the walls and being formally out of the loop, the threats of war and even just the mention of war wasn’t a common thing. From what he knew of history it had been three kings back since there was even a battle to be fought. “I have, but it will be alright Mika. I promise nothing will happen to you.”

“But what of the knights? What of the knight’s squires? The capacity of destruction is too great Ethan.” Mika’s eyes were ringed with red and the puffiness under her eyes cued him into knowing she was taking this very rough.

He simply pulled her into a hug. It was snowing and cold so other than the knights posted nearby that had to pretend like they had anything better to do than to listen in, they were alone in the corridor. “It’s going to be okay Mika. The King will ensure we can find peace.”

“What if he can’t?” She choked out which he quickly shushed. Mark was benevolent so far, but speaking ill of the King was still never a wise decision. 

“You speak only in negatives. You should speak with Madam Tracy, if anyone could beat reasoning into your thick skull it would be her,” Ethan teased, rubbing her back as she gave a small chuckle into the hug, face pressed into his shoulder. 

She pulled away after a moment and nodded. “I trust the King, but war is rarely a place where we get what we want. I am scared.”

“I know Mika,” Ethan said, holding her clothes elbows and runnin his thumb over the fabric there in a comforting manner. “We must trust our leaders.” They spoke a bit longer before she curtseyed low in a sarcastic manner and bid Ethan farewell. There were very few people Ethan truly cared about in the castle: Mika, Amy, Wade, Felix, and of course Mark. He knew without much question that he would do anything for them. Mika was the first friend from inside the walls he had made. Amy was a long-time friend that made him comfortable here and radiated with the most kindness a person could. Wade would always be there to level him out and be an ear to talk to. Felix was fun to be around, always offering jokes and mischief whenever life was a little dull. Mark was, well Mark was Mark. Ethan knew what he couldn’t have, and hopefully as time went on his heart would agree with his brain. Oh how sad to love a man on the brink of war. Ethan wasn’t even sure if it was love or if it was basic human kindness shown from an attractive man that had confused his own emotions.

Nevertheless, Ethan returned to Mark’s quarters to find them empty. He shrugged off the cloak he wore, returning it to stand from which it normally hung. The thoughts of war must have affected his judgment, but his eyes lingered a bit too long on one of Mark’s practice wooden swords laying near his human shaped target practice made of hay and twine. The servant looked to the door for a moment to make sure he heard nobody approaching and cautiously walked over to the practice weapon that lay on the floor. He crouched down, running a hand through his lightly snow damp hair before reaching down to gingerly pick up the sword. It was heavy, hard and had an odd center of balance to it. The servant rotated the wood in his hand, examining the hilt as he stood up and shifted it from hand to hand. Ethan almost found himself laughing as he pretended to swing the heavy ‘blade’. If he swung it too hard he would find the momentum would carry him forward a bit, stumbling a bit to keep balance with a laugh. Ethan unbuttoned the corset-like vest from his chest, undoing the strings behind his back and sliding it to the floor to give him more fluid movement. Taking his first full breath of the day, he swung the blade again and hit the practice target, the slight reverberations making him drop the sword drop from his hands and fall to the ground.

Ethan took it as a personal challenge, holding the sword with a more sturdy grip this time and swung again. This time the sword didn’t fall over but that came at the cost of him falling on his butt. Ethan sighed and looked at the wooden sword now being more supported by the floor than his own hand loosely around the hilt. Perhaps he wasn’t built for the greatsword, at least not now. It was weird to consider that he may find himself needing to fight in the future. The servant sighed and from where he sat on the floor he shoved the sword over to where it lay originally. He stood up, grabbing for his discarded piece of clothing right as a very tired look Mark Fischbach took the moment to enter.

Face red as the sun above their heads, Ethan scrambled to refit his vest back on; the oversight of being unable to tie the laces behind his back was not considered prior to this and that fact became increasingly obvious. Mark paused at the door, his mouth open to say something only to close again a moment later. “Apologies I did not know you would be dressing.” The King moved to unlatch his sword from his hilt, setting it on the table closest to the opening of the door. He pulled the string from his long hair that held it up, and watched as his servant struggled to reach behind him to lace up. 

“Forgive me My King, I simply removed it to catch a breather is all.” His face was still red but he kept his eyes away from Mark so he wouldn’t see the other’s likely skeptical reaction. 

Mark sighed at the formalities but Ethan was unable to see much else until he saw him approach out of the corner of his eye. Ethan almost yelped when Mark grabbed his hip and turned him around with one swift movement. It didn't help the burning in his face as the King pulled him close and tightened the laces for Ethan. It was a miracle that Ethan was faced away. “The irony in this is quite amusing.” Mark laughed from behind him.

Ethan tried to look back at him but could only manage to stare at him through his peripherals yet again. “How so?”

“You are here to undress me and here I am dressing you.” Ethan looked away again, fighting the warmth spreading to his cheeks. Sometimes it was easy to ignore his feelings for the King when he was rude and his temper went off. Other times it was like this where it was quiet, warm, and they were too close for their own good. Tonight was definitely more difficult.

“You seem almost a little too eager about that My King,” Ethan teased in return now that he was unable to see what the effects of his words would be.

“Your wit is neverending,” Mark scoffed but there was no follow up shutting down the teasing claim. Ethan tried to not dwell on that fact too much. Besides, they had much to discuss other than who was dressing and undressing who for once. War was breaking and a family secret had come to light that he was sure nearly everyone knew except him.

Once Mark was finished tying the lace, Ethan turned around to face Mark. For a moment in time they were very close together, only a few inches separating them before they both took a single step back in sync. Mark’s skin was a few shades darker than Ethan’s own, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he was truly seeing the light pink hue to his cheeks for a moment.

“We need to talk,” Ethan said softly, unfortunately aware that it would kill the light mood of the night. 

Mark nodded slowly as he let out a small sigh. The King scratched at his forehead a bit before moving to remove his own outer layer of clothing and sitting on the edge of his bed. “I know.”

“The war. What is happening Mark?” The King looked up to Ethan at the mention of his name and Ethan could tell from the look alone that the raven-haired man was barely holding it together as is. 

It didn’t take a sleuth to detect Mark’s fists clenched eyes trained angrily at the floor before him. Ethan could practically taste the anger beginning to fester in Mark. “Rifton. Rifton is happening. My father appointed an arrogant ward as he fell ill. The ward now believes he was my father’s chosen man and that should eliminate my claim to the throne. He sees himself as better fit, and other cities now stand behind him. Canton in the north, Elies in the west. They back his claims. They wish for a battle of forces if I will not willingly hand over the crown.”

“You won’t give it to him will you?”

“Of course not,” Mark barked, Ethan winced a bit at the sound. The King noticed the slight tremor and let out yet another sigh. “Apologies. I do not mean to lash out at you. Utheral has battled and raged the original war centuries ago, but nothing like this. Many are calling it a sign that my reign will be one of chaos and war.” The words came out of him like broken glass, bleeding out slowly like blood from a thorn prick. “They have begun to know me as the end of life as we have known it.”

Ethan sat next to Mark on the bed, neither looked at each other and instead found separate parts of the floor to focus on instead. Ethan scratched at the patch on the back of his head, unsure of why it was beginning to burn occasionally. It was unfair the ruler had to deal with this. He was hardly turned 22. He had ruled for barely under 2 years and now there was imminent war. The people awaited official instructions or some semblance of comfort and courage in these times and it was clear the King had nothing to give yet. “The people are scared. Servants, nobles, everyone. Nobody knows what is happening and sometimes the best thing to do is blame someone. They would have blamed whoever sat on that throne. The people have known you for kindness and your growth. The war has corrupted the public image of your character, but this is not the end of the path Mark. If anyone could bring peace, surely it would be you.”

Mark grabbed his hand in as swift a movement as he had turned him around. Ethan tensed a moment before squeezing the other’s hand in return. “I am unsure of the validity of your words Ethan, but nonetheless I am thankful for them.” Mark turned his head to give a weak smile before returning to that spot on the floor that was oh so fascinating. 

“Trust me on this one thing.” Ethan smiled and squeezed the King’s hand once more. 

“I do not wish to discuss this much further, but I will keep you as updated as I can. I have to form my plan tomorrow so I will be mostly occupied. I would like you to accompany me.”

“Accompany you where?”

“To my council. I must have their advice and agreement before announcing to the kingdom what is to come. If you are willing, I would like your presence.” Ethan wasn’t sure how to react but he found himself instinctively giving a small nod. “Great.” Mark smiled before slightly reluctantly letting go of Ethan’s hand.

“I hate to switch the topic as I must, but I have other questions to ask of you.” Mark gave nothing other than a gesture to ask away before Ethan rattled off. “My mother. She was from here, wasn’t she.”

“She was. Up until you were born. I had no idea you didn’t know.”

“Did you know that when you picked me then?” Ethan asked, a slightly accusative tone mixed in with words.

Mark paused a bit, a lie nearly ready to shoot out before he gave a nod and explained. “Not you particularly. Your father, yes. He stood behind you during the selection and I reasoned you were likely his child. I was correct. My mother has told me very little but from what I have gathered our mother’s were once quite close.”

His mother knew the queen? The lines in his forehead grew deeper by the second. “You didn’t think to possibly inform me of this?” Ethan asked, the volume of his voice raised a bit in his frustration.

“Ethan I assumed you had known up until our first few conversations. I...I was unaware of why they would keep that from you and chose it was not my place to say anything. You caught my attention by extension of your father and as I mentioned before you weren’t scared of me and you were just...different. I did not lie.”

“It certainly was not the entire truth.” Ethan whispered, slumping as much as the vest would allow. 

Mark turned on the bed, lifting his left leg to rest in a cross position on the bed. “Ethan I am sorry but It was not my place.” As much as Ethan wanted to blame Mark, he could not. It was a very confusing conversation. Had the Quen recognized him then? Why had she also said nothing?

“Why did they leave the city?”

“I was never told directly but I have heard that your father had made a risky investment that went wrong and your family wealth was gone.”

Ethan scowled a bit at that, “My father is not such a reckless man as to do that.”

Mark lifted his hands in the air as a sign of surrender, “I do not know the validity of said statements Ethan. I know only what I’ve been told. I’m sure Arion would be able to tell you more.”

“No thanks. Sometimes I swear that man is purposely trying to run me out of the castle.” Ethan groaned, rubbing at his head to fight away the oncoming headache. This was all so much to take in. Why was his mother so suspicious of those inside the walls? Why had nobody said anything to him if they knew. Nothing made sense. Why would they keep it all a secret?

“I am sorry Ethan this is probably too much to come to terms with. I apologize for the secrets.” Mark said and Ethan could tell he was sincere. 

"I’m fine it’s just, I came here with two questions and I’m leaving with a million.” Ethan’s laugh was bitter but Mark tried to give a smile to match Ethan’s own. “I’m sorry for all of this.”

“Think nothing of it. We are friends are we not?” Mark asked, his faint smile persisting and urging Ethan to smile himself. 

“We are, you’re right.” Ethan nodded, taking a deep breath and urging his questions to fade for the night until he could find Arion and find out the meaning behind all of the secrets and lies. He trusted Mark but there was something there that Ethan couldn’t quite put his finger on; it was like a nearly tangible warning sign faded through the years. His brain had been run over by a horse it had felt like, so for the night he decided he would ignore all conscious and subconscious thought. 

They both sat in silence for a moment before Ethan was able to collect himself for the most part. Ethan reached out his hand, too shy to outright grab Mark’s hand but instead extending the invitation. The King laughed, his chuckle deep and was better than angel’s singing to the servant’s ears. Things would be getting worse, but he would have Mark. In the eyes of the younger man, he offered the King nothing other than an extra pair of hands for changing clothes and miscellaneous tasks Mark had no free time to accomplish. As Ethan held Mark’s hand, he began to consider that though he offered nothing at very least he could make sure Mark wasn’t alone through this. For now, despite all the questions, that would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much reading as always, your comments make my year.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth finally comes to light

The announcement of war was not a pleasant one, but it was no surprise to the masses. The news was delivered to those outside the gates as preparations were to be made to build a small outerwall to protect those beyond the city. Ethan had stood among the council, hands shaking with rage as they refused to see reason. The King had suggested they bring those in outer-ring into the city for safe keeping, creating areas of cots and tents if nobles were inclined not to have them in their homes. The plan was safe and used less resources prior to a potentially grand war. The council refused first and foremost to even let the King negotiate peace.

“Rifton needs to be used as an example of what rebellion to the throne looks like.” Arion had hissed, eyes locked on Mark but with the occasional glance to Ethan standing behind him. The council was also agitated the servant was even granted permission to be in the room, but they allowed the King the one victory. 

“Rifton is misguided by a ward put in place by an ill King,” Mark had hissed. He stood at the head of an oval shaped table, hands on the table and back hunched. There were maps, letters, lists of resources and anything else under the sun pertaining to the issue at hand. “There need not be needless fighting before an attempt of peace.”

Tyler Schied himself was there, elbow on the wooden table and face pressed into his hand. He himself held no position but his father, head of the merchants guild, had fallen ill thus began the transition of Tyler coming to take that power. “My King, Rifton will not see reason. Runwood joined their cause as of this morning. Merchants loyal to Utheral have already faced interrogation and imprisonment for leaving the city. There will be no peace.”

Mark had looked to Tyler with a small ounce of betrayal in his eyes. Tyler did not look excited or thrilled to oppose the hopes and opinions of his friend. The King stood up straight as he ran a hand over his face, the other rested on his hip. Ethan was against the back wall, hands folded in front of him watching the events. Arion and the two elders in charge of Wade and Felix sat beside where Mark should be seated, but only Arion had pitched up that meeting. 

“So you are all suggesting that instead of working towards peace we should be accepting this war? Accept the loss of life? Not only that but not permit those outside the walls to shelter inside, but waste resources in a war to build a wall incapable of truly defending.” Mark asked, disbelief dripping from his words. 

The room fell silent. Nobody wanted to truly confirm the words they were suggesting or the plan they were advising. The King could make suggestions and plans for action, but the council truly decided what must be done. Ethan knew the strength of Mark’s morals and his sense of doing right as he learned through his knighthood; the council did not share these morals. 

“You know why we say what we do. You must understand, My King.” Another spoke, a large man with curly red hair and jaw as square as a stone block. Ethan barely recognized him as the Knight Commander of Utheral, but the way his arms were built as if made to hold a sword, it wasn’t a hard guess. 

“I will do as the council instructs. I may not be as wise as you so claim to be, but know that when this war comes and the enemy is on our doorstep, you were the ones who killed those who will litter the streets.” The meeting was over. The council would give their decision to mark at the end of that night, and in the end they hadn’t considered a word he had said.

Mark announced to the people of Utheral, both noble and outerlyer alike, war was upon them and they were to make an example of Rifton and their supporters. The word was sent to Rifton and the construction of a wall would begin the following nightfall. Utheral was going to war. Ethan had remembered stories of when his father would talk about battles and wars long before. His father spoke of the way the violence and cruelties of war changed those involved. Ethan wasn’t a soldier, but his closeness to the King presented itself a challenge of being near someone in such a power delve into the depths of war. There was a thin thread connecting the young King to the thread of sanity and calm that Ethan had ushered him to grab ahold of. War was approaching like a sharp knife to that thread.

Mark had more meetings to attend to and further planning with the Knight Commander that Ethan was not invited to. The servant planned to wander the halls aimlessly, perhaps hide in the library and read to the children if any were out and about during a day like this, or maybe he would find his friends and tell them the King had tried to fight for a chance at peace. Nobody knew what had happened in that room except for Ethan and it was awful to hear the whispers of the destructive nature of their King. How could he convince them he is not what they say he is. None of these possible plans come true as the second Mark dismissed him until the evening, Arion made a surprise appearance.

Ethan had exited into the main corridor when Arion stood in his path. Instead of his silver robes lined with white and gold flecks that he had worn since Ethan had met him, he now wore black. There was nothing fancy to what he wore and there were no exquisite accents to adorn his attire. It was black robes that fell to the floor around his feet, hood drawn over his face to where his eyes were invisible. He looked as if he were already prepared for this war long ago. “We need to speak.”

“Why on earth would I wish to speak with you?” Ethan asked, both as a quip and as if it would be obvious.

“You have no position to deny me. Your presence has doomed us all and you will no longer deny me what needs to be done.” Arion snapped and it surprised Ethan the way the elder hissed the words. Often people’s voices could be laced with venom while furious, but the words stung holes into his eardrums. The elder grabbed his arm before he could react, dragging him like a caught thief through the corridor. They received many questionable looks from those in the hallway, the last pair of eyes Ethan was even able to catch was Felix and Amy standing side by side looking at Ethan with worry and question. Ethan had tried to fight the grip on his arm, pulling away and telling the other to let him go but the grip was too strong. Ethan was either really weak or Arion was unnecessarily strong. 

Ethan was unsure of what he did wrong and knew even less as to why he was actively being dragged towards the throne room. The more eyes that were drawn the harsh Arion held his wrist as if to usher him to not resist, which was a funny demand given the man was dragging him somewhere after accusing him of ‘dooming us all’. The eyes disappeared as he went through the door, Arion side stepped and nearly flung Ethan to the ground a few feet away. The servant stumbled to catch himself, falling onto his hands and knees as his cheeks warmed in embarrassment and a small bit of anger boiling up. As Ethan moved his hair from his eyes, the brown locks that acted as little needles blocking his vision, he stood up quickly. The plan was to turn around and say some rather unpleasant things to Arion and demand answers of his own, but as he jerked up the Queen sat on the throne with her emotions guised.

Reluctantly, the servant quickly bowed again, eyes trained on the floor and practically able to hear his own heartbeat in his throat. There was silence until he heard the sound of Arion’s approaching behind him, the boy unable to meet the eyes of his Queen. Something was happening and Ethan found himself really wishing he didn’t have to figure out what it was. The boy’s green eyes snapped up to see the Queen clothed in rich black, the delicate fabrics framing her body as royal as ever but once again as if mourning. 

“Ethan,” she spoke as if grace were her first language. “You seem to be doing well.”

Something was off, he just couldn’t tell what it was. “Thanks to your advice Your Majesty.” Ethan said humbly as he cast his eyes to the ground again unable to maintain the eye contact too long. She seemed to be staring daggers into his soul.

“I am glad it was of use. Arion, you may check.” The Queen spoke, her voice unchanging the entire time.

Arion grabbed the back of Ethan’s neck in one motion before Ethan could even raise his eyebrows. The pain wasn’t too bad but he could feel the sting left by what Ethan assumed was the patch ripping off. When he winced, he pulled away and quickly grabbed the back of his neck in panic. That was there as some sort of remedy to prevent sickness, he had never gone a day without it. “What?” That was all Ethan could ask with the chaos of the moment.

“Ethan remove your hand.” The Queen asked but Ario took that as a command. He began to walk towards Ethan who backed away. The room was large and there was plenty of time to run, he knew Arion’s strength but he didn’t want to push his luck with finding out if he was fast. “Ethan please.”

The boy turned to the Queen in panic but paused in place. Arion turned Ethan around and silence followed. He breathed heavily and waited for something. With his back turned he couldn’t see the looks on their faces or what they were doing ripping off his medicine pouch and looking at the skin there. “Then it's confirmed. It’s him.” Arion said as he stepped back. 

Everything was so confusing that he wasn’t sure if the headache was from the medicine patch being removed or the chaos. Ethan grabbed the back of his neck again and frantically turned around to stare at the two clothed in black. “What is confirmed? What do you mean?”

The Queen still sat in her chair of gold and stone, eyes cold and the only emotion that leaked through was pain. Whether it was for him or herself, Ethan did not know.

“Your mother was smart. You look just like her, made it easy to keep tabs on you. I should have known Mark would rebel and choose someone from the outer-ring. Of course it was you.”

“Your Majesty please, I know now you knew my mother, but what is happening,” he pleaded desperately. “I do not understand.” The patch was on the floor before his feet, the outside color matching his skin tone closely but the inside a white cloth which was supposedly soaked in the medicine preventing him from falling ill.

She stood up and let her gown adjust to the movement before taking a small step forward; it wasn’t until then that he noticed the hand mirror she held. “I knew it was you, but I had hoped perhaps I was mistaken that night. I see now I was truly correct. Your presence here was tolerated in hopes that if you formed a friendship with the King would prevent this from happening. I was foolish to not realize that friendship would be the cause.”

Ethan officially gave up the concept he would truly understand what was happening, eyebrows so furrowed the lines in his forehead were inches deep. “Prevent what? Why did you remove that?” 

The Queen slowly walked forward, Arion reaching out to grab his arm as if to prevent him from the instinct to run. They were but a few feet apart, Ethan still heaved a bit from panic, and the deafening silence drowned out every instinct other than that desire to run very far away from here. “I kept it from Mark, I am sure your mother did the same. I will not allow you to have that benefit going forward, perhaps I can change what I have caused allowing you to be here.”

“What in God’s bones are you speaking about.” The shred of decorum in the presence of the Queen had reached its tipping point.

“You have never once looked at the patch on your neck?” Arion asked who looked nearly as confused as Ethan felt.

The servant shook his head unsure of what else he could say. He had never needed to be curious as it was to help keep him healthy, why would he need to pull it off. “It’s medicine. Look at it for yourself. I don’t know what you think I am, but you are fatally mistaken.”

As she shook her head, she lifted the golden plated hand mirror. At first all he saw was his own scared and lost reflection, pupils dilated so small his eyes were a pit of green and terror. Then Arion shifted him to the left, but his eyes never left the mirror. Looking out of the corner he saw something that held no explanation. Where the patch was in a small ink-like splotch, was gold. There was not much to explain other than the vibrant gold where the skin should be pale like the rest of his neck. The deafening silence had now wormed its way into his head, unable to think or perform basic human function other than staring and hoping his eyes were tricking him. 

“What?” He finally found the strength to ask, turning on his own to face the Queen breaking his eyes away from the glass.

“You are special. There comes a day when white smoke rises, a child of red shall mark the clash of worlds.It shall be on the day the world becomes shrouded in whispers of war, a child of gold shall mark the end of peace.” The Queen recited like a hymn sung at the churches during mass. 

There was no time to ponder what this means, he needed answers and he needed them now.“You think I am the child of gold?” 

“There is no think, I know,” The Queen said staring at Ethan like he was a criminal caught red-handed.

“Then why allow me to be here? Why am I like this? I am not here to end any peace I was dragged here.” Each sentence and each question got louder and louder in volume. Arion looked about ready to chew him a new one after raising his voice at the Queen.

“Your mother and I were friends. When you arrived here I had hoped...I hoped maybe I could play with fate more than I already have. That prophecy? It’s the last thing written in the Book of Fate.” Before Ethan could ask her a million more questions, she continued. “It has advised Kings more than any council ever has. It has kept Utheral ahead of the world and made sure we came out on top. It is fate, but it can be diverted. I had hoped removing you from inside these walls diverted it, then I thought advising you with Mark would divert it, clearly I am incapable.” Sunok pursed her lips and looked to the ground as if she were the one at a loss for what to do.

“I am not harming anyone. I am not doing anything.” Ethan hissed, his eyes beginning to burn with tears threatening to spill. 

Sunok raised her head with a sad smile and Ethan could nearly see the end of the line for him behind her eyes nearly brown enough to be black. “I know. Mark has the same mark on his neck as you, a vibrant red. It is you two, no matter what your intentions are.” 

“He must be removed.” Ariod said, the threat dangling silently at the end of his words.

Ethan turned quickly to him, eyes wide and breath as shaky as it had been when he was first thrown into the worst meeting of his life. “Removed? I know what this Book of Fate says but I am not ending peace. I am a servant.”

“The Book of Fate has been heavily guarded for a militia. Those dirty looks you get aren’t because they know this secret it is because they distrust those from outside. The others close to our family know. We have all been watching you and know your heart is pure. That is what is wrong, Ethan.”

None of this made sense. “I do not follow.”

“To win this war, Mark needs to act without mercy and squash rebellion as King’s before have been advised to do. You have shown him the outer-ring, made his heart compassionate. His heart is wary of war and longs to find peace without violence. He is not strong enough to do what needs to be done.”

Ethan shook his head. No, Mark was right. There should not be war without first an attempt to find peace. How could this supposed Book of Fate claim there to be different. “Then what? You are going to kill me? Kick me out of the castle? The King will not allow it.”

The Queen nodded as if she had expected this, lifting up the fabric on her dress to begin to return to her throne, heels clicking against the floor as she walked away. “We know what peace truly takes, but we do not wish to kill you. You can thank your mother for my hesitance to leave her alone. You can not remain here though. I may only pray you agree to leave so extra forces needn’t be taken.” Ethan shivered at the thought of what they meant as extra forces. 

“Why would I agree to do as you say? Where would I go?”

“Away,” Sunok said as she arrived at her large throne seated besides an even larger one where Mark resided. “You, your mother, your father, Andrew if that is what must be arranged. You can never return here. You can never see Mark again.”

The words were each a blow to his heart. He was approaching upon his two years at the kingdom and he had grown to find comfort in the walls. He still slept on the floor and preferred to spend his time outside of his own quarters, but this was home. Sadly enough, Mark was home.

“Why does this matter? If it is fate as you truly claim then why should it be altered?”

Sunok’s face contorted into the first firm emotion he had ever seen slip the older woman’s face. “I will not let this kingdom fall due to a servant boy too selfish to see the greater good. We will not lose what we have built due to you, you are not worth it.” The words were swords and Ethan was left in pieces. His mind raced with what this would mean. Where would they go? What would he do? Would he just leave his friends without warning?

“What will you tell them?” It was all he could muster but it summed up what he need to know.

“You will tell them. Tonight you have just learned the King is sending you to be of service elsewhere in the war. Lie. Whatever they will believe, because you will make them believe it.” Arion nodded, arms folded behind his back as he moved to stand besides the Queen. Ethan nearly scowled at the elder’s presence, nearly ready to start a war if it meant eliminating the old man from his field of view. 

“What about the King?”

“I will convince him of something. You needn’t concern yourself with matters no longer of prevalence to you. Go now and live your last day at this castle and know in the morning you will never step foot behind these walls again. You never should have in the first place. Go.”

Nothing else remained. Ethan left with his fate laid out to him and his life altered forever. The patch still lay there, on the floor of that room as if Ethan were now exposed to the world for what he was. His mother knew then, and she said nothing. Made him wear the patch for what? So the royal radicals would never find him and remove possible risk? Why was he special? Why did he and Mark share this? There were no connections. Nobody there would have answers except the people he never wished to speak to again. Holding the back of his neck with his hand as he walked, Ethan had nowhere to go. He had to visit everyone, Felix, Wade, Amy, Mika, he needed to tell them. Maybe they would believe him and maybe they won’t, but he won’t lie. He would never lie to them, not when his life was possibly in danger. Mark. God above he needed to speak with Mark. His pores began to sweat, the collar around his shirt pressing into his neck tightening like a pair of hands. His brain told him to scrub that gold on his skin until the flesh was raw and bloody, but he was smart enough to know otherwise. 

He walked out of the hallway leading to the throne room and stood at the fork in the road before him. Fate perhaps didn’t completely hate him today despite having it written in text that he was to end peace, because he saw Mark heading down the staircase. “My King!” Ethan called out instantly to get the others attention. 

Mark paused, looking around for the source of the voice before locating the servant boy not far off. “Ethan,” there was a soft smile on his lips but he looked tired and graven. Ethan furrowed his eyebrows and it ushered the King to go on. “There is a fire in town. Some sort of accident in town. A fire, care to join?” The King's hair was now pulled up out of his face, still clothed in the royal attire Ethan knew he would much rather trade in for his knights armour.

Ethan smiled in return and joined the other’s side, walking with him quickly. Normally he had a hard time meeting the other’s pace but today he had no problem running out that door like he couldn’t get far enough away from Arion and the Queen. “You seem shaken,” Mark noticed as they made their way towards the exit in an orderly fashion.

Ethan gave the weakest laugh he could muster and shrugged. They said nothing for a moment until Ethan could no longer walk and say nothing. “Tonight, we need to speak. In the garden.”

“Not much of a garden in the snow, but if you’d like a change of scenery all you had to do was request.” Mark always made a tease of every situation and often it was charming but in a time like now it was hard to muster through. Ethan would miss the way the King grinned and shot him small smirks whenever he found something secretly amusing. Ethan was inches from his master and the world already felt a bit colder than the winter called for. 

“Please, it is important.” 

Mark’s smile dropped some but he nodded sincerely, “Of course, is everything alright?” Ethan nodded as they finally reached the opening of the castle and could finally see the chaos the outside had to give. There were three merchant stands on fire, each surrounding the castle and both producing towers of white smoke billowing out into the cold winter air like pillars into the sky. The color drained from Ethan’s face as the prophecy the Queen had recited to him rang in his ears like a catchy bard’s tune. White smoke. 

Ethan turned away from the scene and gave Mark no explanation or parting words as he retreated into the castle. Mika and Amy would still be in the tailor’s room with Madam Tracy at this hour in the afternoon. The war declaration and now the fires would likely mean everyone is taking shelter inside for the day. That would be his first stop. He had so little time left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own as I should probably proofread these more, or at all. Regardless, hope you enjoy! Your comments make my day <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! Christmas and returning back to college has been a bit hectic, but here you guys are! I have to wear an eyepatch for like two months btw so if typos are worse than usual I apologize.

Ethan had rushed in the shadows of the castle to anyone and everyone he cared about. There was so little time and they all needed to know what very little he could understand himself. Mika was the first to be found as she always seemed to be easy to find whenever he truly needed her the most. Her friendly smile once she spotted him faded away as he booked it towards her in a fast manner. His feet carried him forward and didn’t bother stopping until he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the tailor’s room with no explanation.

“Ethan what is the meaning of this?” Mika asked, struggling to keep up the pace as he pulled her by the arm. He did not grant her an answer as he was too focused on finding Amy and perhaps even Madam Tracy if she were there. Once they entered the room, however, only Amy sat at her stool sewing a pair of thick wool pants. 

The servant finally allowed himself to stop as Mika pulled away from his grip and stumbled back a bit. The man was out of breath and his features were painted with a scene of confusion and panic that left the two women before him even more confused than his abrupt kidnapping of Mika left them. Then the pacing began. Ethan ran a hand over his face as his chest weaved with a tightly bundled notch of anxiety that was slowly boiling under his skin. “I’m leaving.”

“What?” Mika and Amy’s voices were in sync.

“Tonight. The Queen. Arion. I’m leaving.” The anxiety was bad enough as it was but now the tears pricked his eyes and it didn’t take a scholar to know that the servant looked a mess. 

Amy stood from her stool and stepped towards Ethan quickly, blond braids swinging back from the motion. She grabbed his hands in an attempt to steady him Ethan presumed, and locked eyes with him. “Ethan I am lost. We do not understand.”

The man groaned and freed his hands from hers to rub at his eyes. The circles underneath never recovered, they were still lined with the sleepless nights this castle had caused him. “The Book of Fate do you know of it?” That was the best place to start.

Amy shook her head but Mika gave a small laugh, “It is a myth Ethan.” It was his turn to shake his head.

“No,” He began. “No unfortunately it is not.” Amy still looked deeply troubled, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled thin in a frown. Mika on the other hand looked more in disbelief and confusion. “Amy, there is a text called the Book of Fate. I have never seen it but it is said to be filled with prophecies that have guided the Kings of Utheral for centuries.”

“It is folklore. A fable passed around like a secret to disway other countries from attacking Utheral,” Mika sounded as if attempting to also remind herself it was fake.

Ethan sighed and clutched at the fabric of his sleeves to maintain his own urge to jump out of his skin and not have to be in this situation. “Am I a man that would lie to you?” The two friends locked eyes without a word before Mika nodded, eyes cast down at the wooden floor beneath their feet. If he were to find a way to stay, they would need to believe him.

“It is bewildering, I know. Like any text, the book ends. There is one final prophecy. I do not have the words memorized but it speaks of a child of gold bringing an end to piece with a child of red in power. The words are overzealous and vague but,” Ethan went to continue but turned around and lifted the brown hair from the nap of his neck up to show the birthmark he himself had never known was there.

The room fell silent for a moment. He felt cool fingertips at the spot on his neck the patch had always been and he knew Amy’s eyes were locked on them. “What does this mean Ethan.”

“They believe I am to end peace. They blame the war on me. Mark, the King, has a mark of red like me according to the Queen. They pulled me into the throneroom hardly moments ago. I am to rid myself of the Kingdom by tonight. I am to lie to you all and tell you I was assigned elsewhere and I would never return.”

Ethan turned around, eyes ringed red and cheeks a light pink with the exhaustion from earlier and the stinging cold that leaked through the walls. Amy closed the distance between the two and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, resting her head on his shoulder. Mika also made her way over, resting her hand gently on Ethan’s shoulders and looked as pained as he felt.

“I am so sorry,” Amy choked out from his shoulder and held him tighter.

“What have you done to cause a war such as this?” Mika scoffed with frustration that dripped from her very words. “You are a servant.”

Ethan sniffled the snot that had begun to drip from his nose and shook his head. “They believe I have softened Mark. Made him unwilling to properly force the cities into submission.”

Mika’s frown deepened and she rested her hands on the dips of her waist. “The King has done nothing but benefited from your presence. Utheral has not had a benevolent King since the 2nd era. I was worried how he would transition into power, everyone was, but he has shown kindness and willingness to help those none have before. This is what they hope to avoid?” Ethan could only nod at her words, still holding Amy tight.

The blonde pulled away after another moment, fists balled on Ethan’s chest and eyes narrow with hate. “They can’t do this. Sending you away will fix nothing.”

“They do not see it that way,” Ethan whispered, reaching up to wipe the tears away from his friend’s face. “I am a servant like Mika said. I hold no authority to demand anything.”

Mika looked around the room for a moment in thought before speaking. “What about the King? You have become close do you not believe he will wonder where they sent you? Have you told him?”

“No, he is attending to the fire in town. I came nearly straight here. I was told not to speak to him but I...I cannot do it. I need to talk to him.” The two women were his closest friends. Amy had guessed his affections for the King far before he had the courage to even admit it to anyone else. Ethan watched Amy’s face drain with the realization that Ethan would be leaving the man he had grown to care for along with all of them.

“Do Wade and Felix know?” Amy asked, but was answered with another head shake. 

“As I said I came nearly here immediately. They are my next stop. They are however more spread apart than you both are so it will be a challenge to see everyone and Mark.”

Mika shook her head, already seeming to be ready to scheme as she always was. “No. Go to Mark. Amy and I will find Felix and Wade. We can then explain what you have told us so we can focus on goodbyes. I wish I could think of a way to save you but if the Queen demands it? I do not know how to guide you this time Ethan.”

Ethan reached forward for her hand which she grabbed tenderly, eyes once more cast down as if delivering bad news. “You have not failed me Mika. You have been the flecks of gold in a crumbled mine since the day we met. You are my friend, no amount of clever plans failed or successful will ever amount to my love for you.” Mika gave a weak smile and squeezed his hand. Ethan was unsure if there was an afterlife or perhaps even the chance of obtaining a new life after this, but if there were past lives he knew Mika was an important part in all of them. This would not be goodbye.

The man let go of Mika and turned his head to look back at Amy who had stepped back just a touch. He grabbed her hands as he Mika’s and gave her the strongest smile he could. “I may be leaving for now, but I will come back. I needed to tell you the truth, but do not mourn me as if I have died. Hell or high water I will return to these walls.” It was almost funny how he managed to be reassuring them instead of vice versa, but that was the price for dropping such a heavy bomb on them. There were questions about the books still looming in the unspoken thoughts of the room that none of them had the answers to. There was so much left unknown. 

“We will get the others. Meet us here at the soonest you can after you speak with Mark. If we are questioned Amy and I will say you have just been sent to aid in war efforts and we do not know where.” Ethan nodded in agreement and gave them both a final crushing hug. He urged them not to think of this as a goodbye, but the heaviness of the room begged to suggest otherwise. They parted ways reluctantly, neither of the three feeling in any rush to peel themselves away. 

The two women believed him with little question, Mark on the other hand was a different case. As Ethan made his way to the King’s quarters the bundle of anxiety that had been growing had become fire hot. It was as if he had ingested stones that now sat heavily in all of his organs. His lungs struggled to breath, his stomach felt as if filled with horrid acid, and his hands shook like flags in the wind. His surroundings swam in his vision which made the servant grateful that his feet knew where they were taking him. It was now that he truly wished he had taken more time to memorize and appreciate the stone walls he weaved between as it would likely be a long time until he would see them again. Then again, even if Ethan were permitted to stay just another day he would always find himself begging for another.

He stopped briefly along the way to peak around and see if he were anywhere else but his quarters, even pressing his ear into the same meeting room he had been in before only to hear silence. As he arrived at the heavy door he had seen likely too many times after the past nearly two years, Ethan found himself unable to open the door. The metal handle inches below his outstretched hand felt as if the gateway to the unknown. Pandora’s box. One deep breath later, Ethan forced himself to grab the handle. Another breath, he pulled the door open as he had done a million times before. 

Entering the King’s room to see him mad was a usual sight. Entering the King’s room to see him just awoken sitting on the bed, his mischievous smile already drawn with a steady hand across his features, was also a usual sight. Today was a newer but not uncommon sight in these times, the man was pacing with the lines in his forehead deeper in thought than he had ever seen. Ethan paused until the King had whipped around to face him, the taller man’s features morphing from deep thought to more relaxed with an every so faint smile on his small lips. It pained him in that moment to think that perhaps Mark saw him as a source of momentary comfort; a friendly face. God’s bones Ethan was ready to sob again.

“Ethan, you are a sight for sore eyes. You won’t believe the chaos of today,” Mark began to ramble and Ethan stayed glued to the doorframe. “The fires were started by those damn traveling merchants from Rifton. They are currently in the brig but we made a public scene in detaining them and everyone is uneasy. The outer-ring is beginning to bang on the doors asking for entrance and I want nothing more than to let them inside but the council...the council refuses Ethan.” His pacing had stopped, eyes locked onto the worn floor below his feet. The servant watched as the King squeezed his eyes shut and could nearly feel the stress radiating off his being.

Mark didn’t need this. Mark was under so much stress he shouldn’t be plagued by Ethan’s stress. Another thorn in his heart. He wanted nothing more than for his friend to be happy. Ethan had to face the idea that perhaps, he truly was eroding what made Mark so strong. His stubbornness, his rage fueled power, and perhaps even that seedling of apathy Ethan hated so much. The Book of Fate could be telling the truth. 

“I am sorry to hear so Mark, this is an awful time truly,” Ethan said and stepped forward, letting the door close behind him with a loud clunk in the room. “This is not your fault, you are doing what you can.”

The King did not look convinced, running a hand through his black hair in such a way that Ethan could only envy his own inability to do the same. “I feel as if I am not doing enough. I do not know what to do Ethan, I am not a man of war. I do not have the strength of my father. I do not have the diplomacy of my mother. I just want the fighting to end.” The words of a broken man echoed around the room and filled the air with the weight of a war soon to be fought.

Ethan found himself moving forward a few steps, closing the distance a decent amount to grab the King’s hands as they had made a habit of when the other was stressed or upset. Hopefully Mark’s own shaking would cover up the fact Ethan’s were shaking too. At this distance the servant was able to stare into Mark’s eyes and see his own reflection faintly in the glossy brown. It was then that he knew he would not be able to say goodbye. His heart screamed to tell him, but if today had told him anything it was that you never got what you wanted. Never.

“You are everything they were and more Mark Fischbach. You are strong and you are facing a war your father never faced. You advocated for the outer-rings protection, you wish to help and urge others to listen to peace. My King you are unlike any King before you, do not dwell on the ways they ruled for it is not their era.” Ethan found some comfort in the way the other’s shoulders slowly relaxed from where they were tensed. “It is not quite nearly two years from when you were made King. You are young and these will be the days that define what you learn and how you will rule.”

Mark gave a small laugh that sounded more like a huff of air than one of humor. “Careful with your words Ethan or you might make a lady swoon.” 

Ethan found himself giving a smile, squeezing the others hands that he had brought up to his own chest. “I do not speak with enchanted words. You are all I say and more.”

It wasn’t a moment later that the King pulled the other into a bone crushing hug. For a moment Ethan allowed himself to forget this would be among the last if not the last time he would be able to hold the other’s waist and feel the others breath on the skin above his collar. Ethan squeezed back for what it was worth, both men lingering longer than strictly necessary. When they pulled away they shared a gentle smile and their hands slid away from each other after once more lingering a split second. 

“Your words are kind and I appreciate your faith in me. However, was there a reason you came to visit? I do not require your assistance until dusk.”

Ethan paused a moment and had to make a split second decision. “No, there was no reason. I just wanted to check and make sure you were not breaking any more bottles onto your floor.” It hurt to ignore the real reason, to not cry to his King and beg him to stay. He wanted to show him his mark buried behind his hair and check to see if Mark shared a matching one of red. He wanted to close the distance again and give himself something to hang onto for the coming lifetime without Mark. 

“Well I am glad you came. I could use something to clear my head. I will be riding to Windel in the morning to negotiate an alliance, their ward is lifelong friends with my father so I do not expect much resistance.” The King rang his hands out in a way that Ethan could only consider to be out of anxiety. “Care to join me in the garden? I know you must leave for supper soon, but I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Ethan nodded, his lips pulled into a sweet smile to hide the feeling of wanting to vomit. “I wouldn’t mind a stroll.” The servant and the King managed to sneak through the castle to the garden covered in snow so the King wouldn’t have to deal with more people, which worked in Ethan’s favor. The Queen would likely be much less benevolent if she found him sneaking around with her son despite direct orders. At very least he didn’t tell Mark what was happening. What would be that night. After the garden he would say goodbye to his friends and then he would be gone. Shipped to some unknown place for some unknown time or perhaps forever.

It was cold outside as the sun dipped deeper but as the sun peeped out from the clouds in the sky every so often to make the snow glisten and warm the top of his head. They walked in silence for a bit, their shoulders occasionally brushing as they walked until they got to that bench they had declared their friendship oh so long ago. “If this war comes to battle, at least it won’t be in the scorching hot of the summer.” Mark said, the darker humor made in an attempt to lighten what of the mood they could.

“I love winter,” Ethan said to alter the topic away from Mark’s anxieties. “I have no found tolerance to the cold but it's special. Warmth means more, flowers wilt but that makes us excited for when they return.”

Mark laughed as he halted, look around to the rose bushes that had all but turned a light brown underneath the snow. “You find poetry in much Ethan. Perhaps in another life you would have made a good bard.”

“I like to think I use it as a way to hide my usual unorthodox nature,” Ethan laughed, smiling and examining their surrounds alongside 

“Unorthodox nature? My what secrets could a man such as Ethan Nestor have hiding in his small skull?” 

Ethan scoffed, hands on his hips as he turned to the King. “My King I do not believe you much room to mock my stature.” They both laughed a bit at that before he continued. “I am an open book I admit, but I am capable of maintaining a private life.”

With a twinkle in his eye, Mark gave a smirk, “What is so private that friends cannot share.”

Ethan rolled his eyes and became thankful the cold already brought a brush of warmth to his cheeks. “A private life is a private life my King. Wouldn’t be much of a secret now if I went and told everyone.”

Mark shrugged but Ethan could feel the other’s eyes linger on him a moment before he sighed and looked back at the garden. “I do consider myself not to be everyone but your point stands.” Mark kicked some snow off the top of his boots before continuing. “I am thankful at least to have you during this. A friend is in short supply it feels like.”

Mark was still his rose. This moment of sweetness, dwelling in his presence, was a comfort, but the words he spoke and the reality was the King pricked his heart with every act of thankfulness or kindness. Ethan had to leave. He would leave when Mark needed a friend the most and that along broke what remained of his heart that awful day. “I am thankful for you as well Mark, but do not be blind. There are friends everywhere. Just as the snow is to your soldiers.” They both chuckled and fell silent a moment. The cold was beginning to sting and his bones wished for some heat, but Ethan didn’t want to leave this moment.

Boldness was his last resort as who knows what the night would bring and who knows what the war would bring. The servant grabbed the King’s hands and stepped closer so their hands would be concealed behind the King’s cape in case anyone else were curious enough to stroll the garden at this hour and climate. Mark’s hand twitched a bit in surprise, but just as quickly Ethan could feel the other’s calloused hand squeeze his back. There was the warmth his bones requested. Silence continued but it wasn’t deafening and it wasn’t heavy. It was light, and it was comfortable. Ethan was a hyperactive and loving person, but actions often spoke louder than even his words could.

“Ethan, I,” The King trailed off a bit, his voice shaking slightly. “Tonight, in my quarters I have something to ask you. I would prefer to do it in the comfort of privacy and warmth of the fire. I would ask you now but...just meet me there tonight.” 

The sad part was, Ethan would never know what he wanted to say. He had nodded, biting his cheek to keep his lips from shaking, but the thorns in his heart had shredded it to pieces. “As you wish, My King.” They laughed but Ethan knew Mark would wait. Mark would wait that night for Ethan to arrive and he would never come. The servant would be carried on a horse far from those gates with only the thoughts of his waiting King to plague his mind. 

The King and his servant parted but not without Mark bringing their intertwined hands up to his lips, pressing his chapped lips to the skin of Ethan’s hand. Ethan was frozen in shock but the other simply let go with a smile, and returned to the castle without a moment's hesitation. Mark had just made leaving the worst possible thing imaginable and it already was. Ethan felt the kiss lingering on his hand all the way to the tailor’s room, the feeling forever etched into his eyelids as the last touch he would ever feel from the love of his life. 

Wade and Felix sat on stools together, both which shocked expressions of disbelief. Mika and Amy stood before them just as upset but both having started the process of coming to terms. The men stood up and stormed Ethan, crushing him in a three way hug that was tighter than even the one Mark had given him. “I can’t believe it,” Felix was the first to talk and the first to draw away. His blonde hair had grown longer in the years, and he had begun to further fill out his frame and gain ever more height and muscle than Ethan did. “They can’t just, what remove you? Because of a dusty scroll nobody cares about?”

“I think they care Felix,” Ethan sighed but nodded. “I wish it weren’t so.”

“We thought of anything we could,” Wade said looming over everyone in the room like a sad bear. “I wish we knew a way for you to stay Ethan. I am at a loss for the proper apology.” 

Ethan gave him a sad smile but settled with giving the tall man a hug which he returned quickly. Wade was always a hugger.

“When do you leave?” Mika asked from behind the boys saying their goodbyes.

Ethan broke the hug and gave Felix one last thankful and sad smile before he turned to his friend whose puffy eyes spoke for how she spent the past bit of time. “Soon. Arion should retrieve me soon. Did you tell them what to say in case they ask you what I asked.” Everyone in the room nodded. “Okay.”

“We will find you.” Amy said, hands clutched to her chest as she held her head up high. Ethan wished to every god that he would one day find the strength and optimism Amy always found. 

Ethan ushered her over and hugged her as well as he had no idea what else to do. This wasn’t a secret meeting to get him to stay. This was goodbye. That’s all this was and all it would be. “You can never tell the King. If he asks, tell them the story. If he doesn’t believe you, you cannot give in. If this prophecy is real, then maybe this serpation will help. If this is what helps stop the war, then we did what was necessary and I can never return. I,” Ethan choked on his words but pushed forward. “I hope that is not the case.”

Amy and Ethan pulled away allowing for Mika to hug goodbye and Felix to once more hug. “You are a good friend Ethan. I hope to see you on the other side of this.” Felix was an unexpected friend, but Ethan was glad for him nonetheless. Especially the nights he snuck them extra rations. 

“Thank you for all being here for me. As I said I pray this is not forever, but in case it is I would like you to all know I’ll never forget you. I will send a letter if I can manage to do so but it will likely be very long before you all hear from me again.” Nobody knew what else to say. This was the end. Arion would retrieve him only a short time later, all his friends and himself included pretending like this was a joyous occasion but they were sad to see him go. They were all angry Ethan knew, but none of the servants had the power to do anything. That was the worst feeling beyond just sadness and anger, helplessness. Arion said not a word to him as he walked him to the exit of the castle as the sun finally set on the kingdom. He had nothing to gather from his room. He had said his goodbyes, and had them pass on his farewell to Madam Tracy as well. He had ended things on all fronts of the castle.

As he rode towards the gates of the kingdom on horseback with Arion, watching the night snow fall onto the stone streets, Ethan felt that hopelessness in full swing. Yet all he could really think of was his King sitting on that grand bed in his quarters waiting for someone who would never arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your comments mean the world to me, thank you so much for sticking with the story. Much is to come!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me not updating for like two months
> 
> THIS CHAPTER IS VERY SHORT I SORRY  
> Next Chapter is longer this was just to get me writing this story again! More to come soon

_ December Twelfth The Year of Our Lord Six Hundred and One, _

__

_ I must ask you to forgive the informality to which I write as I send these letters. The desperation in me allows no time for the Kingly letter writing I have become well accustomed to. I can only write hoping my mother truly cares for who I care for, and these letters find their ways into your hands so far away. I can only hope you know by now that I had no part in you being sent away. The news was like a knife to the heart. You are a dearest friend of mine Ethan, and your leaving has felt like the heaviest of losses though I know you likely are breathing and making whoever’s life you have stumbled upon a most fun type of hell. Your friends, the other selected Wade and Felix, have both been of great support in your absence. Amy has as usual came forward to pick up pace of jobs you were in charge of. Never mistake my grief as a sign of unthankfullness for the loyal servants and loyal friends they are, but no the absence you leave has been a weight. I can only pray to see you soon. _

_ Your King, _

_ Mark E. Fischbach _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

_ January Third The Year of Our Lord Six Hundred and Two, _

_ I have heard no response but my mother has assured these have and will fall into your hands. I do not know if it is true, have you been too busy to write back? I know writing over a distance is nothing like talking in the garden or those late nights in my quarters, but I miss you. I hope even the Lord cannot read these letters I am writing for I am a Kingly disaster. I urge you, please believe I would never send you away. I waited for you that night. I waited, and waited, and my mother finally arrived to tell me of what the General had taken from me. You. Her words were low and hesitant, so I am led to hold them gently with any sort of trust, but I beg you to write back if you truly are able to read these. I will not take up too much more of your time reading these, but I urge you to please write back. Life has not been the same Ethan. _

_ Your King, _

_ Mark E. Fischbach _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

_ May Fourteenth The Year of Our Lord Six Hundred and Two, _

_ Its been months with no word and my heart holds the deepest sorrow a man could have during a war. The people are enraged at the war, and the kingdom, at their own sons agreeing to go to war. The cities joining the side of Rifton grow everyday, the council refuses peace. They refuse to negotiate and find a middle ground and I am beginning to see the need to fight. I will be taking the forefront of war planning soon, a position I should have taken from the beginning. We have been fighting for months and how I wish to know what it is like on your side. How are you? How is the world around you affected by this war? If you are angry with me Ethan at least allow yourself to unleash your fury onto me that I may at least bask in the heat of your anger. You mean more to me than you could realize Ethan Nestor. Please, find it in your heart to write back to me. _

_ Your Friend, _

_ Mark E. Fischbach _

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

_ September First The Year of Our Lord Six Hundred and Two, _

_ They say writing is a lost cause. The village you were supposedly stationed at was raided. Mother has given me this location of writing in case the General moved you here. They say you are as good as dead. The reports say the village is nothing other than a burning bush like that in the Bible. I know you are not dead, I feel it in the makeup of my blood and flesh. I have taken charge of the war and thousands are dead now on both sides. The Outer-ring has taken the biggest hit. Nobody has approached Utheral yet but rumors of a siege are stirring in the waters. My Mother has been whispering in my ear of the way the people are beginning to respect me and encouraging the most ruthless of actions. I beg her to listen to some reason but she will not have it. I ask for you to be retrieved and brought back here. She will not have it. If you are dead I asked to at least be able to see what remains and bury them somewhere, she says if you died there you would be nothing but ash and scattered bone. Ethan I cry out to you. I love you Ethan Nestor, please find it in your heart to respond to a man crying out with fear for his love. I love you. _

_ Your Friend, _

_ Mark E. Fischbach _

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_ February Sixteenth The Year of Our Lord Six Hundred and Three, _

_ It’s been over a year now since you have left. I have pleaded and begged and hoped you were alive but it is clear now that my worst fears have come true and these letters sit on a shelf somewhere with no Ethan Nestor to open and read them. I have cried and prayed to the gods above that someone will deliver you to me dead or alive and my prayers have remained cast aside and forgotten. This will be my last letter to you as I am drawing out my own pain now. I hope you understand I had no part in this, I hope you know that I tried to find any way I could to bring you back. Wade went to war and returned without an arm but survived the worst of the infections to follow. He is a strong man. Felix is alive and well, soon to take over the head cook position as his mentor is old and no longer himself. Madam Tracy is, I am at my own misfortune to say no longer with us. She died in her sleep from unknown causes, but the servants all say it was her own grief. I do not know what I believe regarding it. Amy has taken the loss well but she has always been a fighter. She continues to be by my side throughout this and as time grows on I am likely to take her as a wife. I will disclose in this last letter that I have limited liking for female anatomy, but she is kind and strong and I do believe that is needed in my life for now. We have already discussed this and made sure to note that she was free to pursue whoever else she truly loved but she would be unable to marry them the same as me. I am free to pursue whichever man I desire, but I may never marry him. If I may finally be so blunt Ethan Nestor, I prayed to the Gods that man would be you. I prayed perhaps that our world would change and two Kings were permitted otherwise you would be swept to the altar without a moment’s hesitation. It is however impossible as you are likely dead and there must be a Queen. When I said before that I loved you it was not out of a brotherly love. That night you left I wanted to confess to you how I felt. That those touches in the garden and those in the quarters may have been nothing to you but passing brushes, but I thought of them when I couldn’t sleep at night and I thought of them in the most unsavory of ways and I urge you as your King, your friend, and the poor soul encased by your every movement that you find a way to return to me if you are reading this and unable all this time to send a message back. If you perhaps no longer wish to speak to me I will leave this as my last letter. Goodbye, I hope to see you in another more fortunate life where I can properly love you. _

_ Your Love, _

_ Mark E. Fischbach. _

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For a year the words Mark sent were the only thing he had to hold on to. He waited for months waiting for when the next would arrive with updates or often surprising confessions that Ethan reread over and over again as much as he could. The shackles around his wrists limited his movements, so when the ripped the letters from his hands again he was unable to stop them. Over time the shackles came off but he stayed inside the cell day in and day out. The letters would stay then and he could hold on to them as he slept. A year had passed? He had lost count of the days and months that had passed. The village had never really burned, they were lying to him. His mother was spurring on Mark to become his father and he could say nothing back. They allowed him to read the letters, but he could never write anything back. He read his King’s begging and hopeless words and could only cry out until the guards told him to shut up.

Then the last letter came and the world became a spinning nightmare more than living in a jail cell for a year had. Mark loved him. Mark loved him. Mark loved him. He wanted him. Ethan had felt nothing but hopelessness. He hadn’t showered in a year, the dirt and grime building up around his body as thick as his skin itself. The oils of his hair slicked his brown and now somewhat grown out hair to his face. They fed him, but the muscle and the build of his body ever so slowly fading to what he was before. It was like stripping every last thing he had earned at the castle into what he was in the outer-ring. What he was without Mark.

Looking at that letter he felt a stir of feelings he hadn’t in a long time. He felt the only hope he could manage in the past year of being locked in a jail cell underground for what was supposed to be a very, very long time. He had to escape. He had to get to Mark and tell him that he knew it was never Mark. Tell him he doesn’t hate him and is very much alive. Ethan had to tell Mark he loved him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter is already being written I promise it won't be two more months lol


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kind words and your support. Here is a medium chapter to prepare for the next one being 10k so far so ahahahah hope you guys enjoy! Thank you again for reading <3

The shackles were no surprise by the end of his first month there. His family had been gathered all except for Andrew who they said was in transport to where they were headed. Ethan had no idea where they were going. The servant remembered parts of that first night. Remembered them gathering his parents from their shack, he knew his parent’s had loved that little broken down home more than life itself. His father gave him a crushing hug that he had hardly felt and his mother kissed him on the forehead with a string of apologies and begs for forgiveness dripping down her tongue. She must have been told why they were being taken away. Why they were being forced away from the only place any of them had ever known. Ethan hopes that he responded to her cries or hugged her back. In all honesty his own words felt foreign and his actions were as if someone else were controlling. That feeling always felt so hollow and lonely, but now he was thankful something was at least keeping him going other than the guards dragging him to and fro. Ethan had no possessions to bring, just the clothes on his back. His parents brought with them one leather skin filled with what little coin they owned and their spare clothing they had bought with the money Ethan had made for them. Somewhere inside Ethan’s empty husk he was almost glad to see the fruit of his labor. 

They were placed on the back of three horses, with their own respective knights on the reigns, and they were gone. It hurt to look back at the walls. It hurt to turn around and see the fading dim glow of the blacksmith’s fire. So, he didn’t look back. They rode for what felt like hours even in his dissociative state. The forests were dark and the stars above provided nothing, and just like that Ethan’s world faded to black with the only thing tethering him to reality was the discomfort of the horses bouncing him around. It tethered him for a lot longer than that day with how sore it made his ass afterwards. The first few days nothing was exactly wrong, other than the fact they were not in Utheral in general. They were in a small outpost they were creating for the war. Ethan figured then that they must have ridden close to the border of an ally city. It wasn’t much, just a small village that the knights took over to occupy and set up their tents and begin a sort of recruitment process. His mother and father were taken into one of the tents when they finally arrived at the post, them both quickly saying their goodbyes to their barely present son and following the knight clothed in the same white and gold he had become accustomed to seeing after all this time. 

For a moment Ethan stood there undirected, staring at the back of his parents' heads until they disappeared under deep red fabric and he was for a moment left in the comfort of nothing. This however did not last long as he soon heard a gruff voice behind him give a controlled cough to get his attention. Ethan whipped around in that moment, checking back into the world for a moment after being startled out of his dazed state. The man was tall and chiseled, long red hair and a face that had seen enough battles to last a lifetime. Ethan recognized him then from the war meeting at the beginning of all of this. He urged on this war. Ethan looked at the Commander with a locked jaw and rage boiling under his very skin.

“If you are to look at me with such rage Ethan Nestor, it is in your best interest to do so while I am not looking. Your time here will be as hard as you make it.” The Commander walked past, his silver helmet tucked under his arm as he walked. The snowy grass beneath Ethan’s feet he now noticed was beginning to be lit by the warm oranges of the sunrise peaking at the horizon. Ethan looked at the white of his shirt as well as the form-fitting vest of black and gold that tightened around him like a ladies’ corset and decided the colors nauseated him. He followed the other man after he lifted his head up. The Commander weaved him through a series of other tents in silence before Ethan had the energy to lift up his own voice.

“My brother, where is he?”

“Away. His escorts will soon be arriving, they encountered delays but they will soon be here.” Ethan appreciated the answer at very least, he nearly expected the lies and roundabout answers these days. There was silence again but Ethan had fully allowed himself to be present again. All the fatigue also began to make itself apparent in the way it made the man’s legs feel full of lead and blood like sleeping tea his mother would make. 

The Commander eventually came upon a yellow tent towards the center of the city of tents and stands, and opened the flap. It wasn’t large enough for anything other than Ethan but he would be sleeping on the floor again. That bed in his quarters had never looked so good; or perhaps it was the feeling of sleeping somewhere other than home.

“Why am I here.” Ethan managed to ask again, standing beside the Commander with eyes fixated on the thin blanket folded along a strip of the tent meant for the boy. 

The larger man beside him did not rush to answer. There was their weird tension Ethan felt but could not quite identify what it meant. Pity? Understanding? Annoyance? He was not sure.

“We both know why.” The Commander turned his body to face Ethan but the other did not return the movement. “It is best to forget that city ever happened to you.”

The tears that had been lost in the sea of empty movement and hollow actions threatened to spill over like a storm in the middle of the sea. “How could I ever.”

The Commander surprised Ethan as he put a hand on his shoulder and weighed heavily there. “I am not here to tell you how to forget, son. I am just telling you what must be done. You have no home there, nor will you ever again. You will serve the knights here during this war. When we win this war, you will then be moved to aid knights in the supervision of conquered rebellious cities.”

There it was, his fate, Decided for him like it always seemed to be. “I want to go home.” A single tear slid down Ethan’s cheek and trekked down his dirt coated cheek.

As he took his hand off Ethan’s shoulder, the Commander spoke one last thing to him before leaving. “You are looking at it.” Ethan slept like a rock and prayed to whatever deity existed that he would never wake up. He nearly cried again when his eyes fluttered open the next morning to a chill entering the flaps of his tent.

There was nothing to note the first month. He cleaned armour, he helped fit recruited soldiers and those who were knighted in that period into their chainmail. He fixed broken tents and helped deliver food to tents if they were fortunate enough to give him a less labor intensive job. They fed him well but he hated it. He told them he hated it. Every night he dreamed of the world outside the post and every night he wondered when the perfect time would be to run away. 

His mother helped the tailor’s station and his father worked in the kitchen as he was too old to fight now. The ladder news came as a relief to both Ethan and his mother. He saw them as often as possible and told them of his plans to leave and his desire to run away from this place and find a way to sneak back into the palace. “Please Ethan, let us not cause more harm than we have.” It became clear then that any attempt to leave would mean leaving his parents. For a month he scoped the border of the post and tracked when the knights swapped shifts at the border. There was no real wall, but they guarded as far out as the light of the post would reach. Night would be the best time where he could hide in the forest out of sight of the guards. He was always light on his feet and hopefully that would aid him in running away if they noticed his absence. He told his parents about everything other than his strong affinity for Mark. He told them of how they became friends and of the friends he made inside the walls. His father listened like a leech to his stories but his mother seemed pained by the words. Ethan wondered if she too had to learn to forget everything that she had inside those walls knowing she could never step back inside. She had accepted her fate and stayed away and made herself a new life. His father had to as well, Ethan supposed. His father seemed refreshed to hear the stories whereas his mom looked as if eating straight salt.

As the days grew longer and winter set in stronger, Ethan knew he had to act fast before the depths of winter prevented nearly all forms of travel. Ethan had few belongings, in fact he had gained nothing but a singular dark brown shirt the entire month he resided there, but he stuffed it into a small satchel he stole off a horse and clipped it around his frail waist the night he decided this was it once and for all. The servant also managed to smuggle a piece of bread from the kitchen which he had become an expert at back in his early time at the castle with Felix. He hadn’t planned to say goodbye to his mother or father, the pain of goodbye too great to handle right before running into the forest and hoping to reach the other side. Ethan sat in his tent urging the sun to lower enough for cover and waiting for when he knew the shift change would commence. The waiting felt like hours and he found himself making a habit out of praying when he was desperate, and he desperately did not want anyone to be looking for him now. His prayers were often ignored.

“Ethan?” He heard the voice of his mother only briefly before she entered the tent to see her son sitting on the floor with a horse’s satchel strapped to his side. It clicked in her eyes what was happening before he could deny what she knew was the truth.

“Mother I-”

She lifted her hand to cut him off before he could continue to invent some elaborate explanation. “Why. Why is returning to the King this important to you. We are taken care of here, we can continue living as we once did.”

Ethan clutched his bag tightly in his hand and took a small breath for courage, “I love him.” The room fell silent before he repeated himself again. “I love him Mother, and I must return to tell him as much.”

His mother made no move to remark but slowly nodded after a moment. Her dark hair framed her face and the candle light flickering outside showed the age on her face. She was always beautiful, but time had made her so tired. He had made her so tired. “Then you must go Ethan Nestor.”

Shock brought him to his feet from where he sat. He was not much taller than his mother, but it was enough to where once he approached her, he could look down into the eyes that matched his own. “Are you sure?”

A small laugh shook his mother’s shoulders as she lifted her hands to brush the white dirtied fabric of Ethan’s shirt. “I don’t believe you were seeking my approval, but you have it. I will let your father know what is happening. We will miss you dearly.”

He brought her in for a hug, wrapping his arms around his mothers neck and taking in the feeling. As sad as it was, if all went right tonight he wouldn’t feel her touch for a long time. “I will return to you Mother.” 

She did not answer, smiling only briefly before pulling away. “The left hand side of the castle. There is a large rock in the corner nearest to the mountain. It protrudes from the ground and if you look behind it, likely under all this snow, there will be a hatch that leads down into the castle. It leads into the castle, if you are able to get inside those walls undetected, it will be the only way into the castle.” 

They hugged again and she was gone. She was gone and it was time to go. Securing his belongings, he weaved through the tents like he had perfected in the past weeks and ran towards the north of the post that he knew would be the direction of Utheral. His heart beat pounded in his ears but hopefully the rush of adrenaline fueled his speed as he sprinted away. He pressed his back to the side of one of the wooden scouting posts and waited for the knight that knew would be passing in a moment to trade out with the new knight and then he could take off. The man sat there breathing as quietly as possible with eyes darting around to look for any possible passersby as the snow slowly set atop his brown hair. The footsteps he trained himself to hear never came. Instead the small glimpse of a red ribbon atop a silver helmet caught his attention to his left. The Commander stood behind the pillar just barely out of sight. The man made no attempt to announce himself but he made no attempt to hide himself. He knew Ethan would notice him. Panic set in and the bottled up adrenaline kicked in and he found himself sprinting without a second thought. He didn’t look behind him, a new skill he had acquired, and sprinted off. He lost all sense of direction and hoped his boots and his shaking legs could carry him into the woods as far as they could. Then he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and the cold embraced his head like a pillow. He blinked once, snow caked into his eyelashes as he looked towards his shoulder embedded into the snow to see the red stain left there. The pain was surging up his arm but his body gave him one final gift and let him close his eyes and forget for a moment what laid beyond the tree line just inches from his outstretched hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been two months since he had tried to run away, three since he had arrived at the post. He was more under the post now than anything else however. They had locked him up after bandaging his shoulder. Ethan could feel the pain and soreness from the arrow that had embedded into his shoulder for weeks. The wound was now healing after luckily avoiding infection in the fester hole that was the prison, but the growing scar looked about as ugly as one could. Most hours of the day he was shackled with his arms above his head, only being freed to eat his one provided meal a day. It was horrible. He wished he had listened to his mother every passing day. His stomach hurt from a lack of food, his wrists ached to be free, and his skin missed the heat of the sun as he nearly froze to death every night under watch of the Commander’s guards. The man had no idea if his mother and father even knew what had happen to him? Nobody had told him anything no matter how much he begged. Nothing could be worse than this. Then the letters came. 

He knew the letters were to torment him. The letters were salt in the wound of his entire being. They unshackled Ethan when the letters came through and eventually they left the shackles off long after the servant had lost track of time. The letters occasionally mentioned the passing of time and he clung to those. He talked to the knights who were kind enough to speak with him, and he sang old lullabies to keep himself entertained but with his limited supply of water it began to make his throat ache. The letters hurt his heart, knowing Mark was waiting for him to reply and begging for him to speak. What he would give to be able to talk to Mark. What he would give to hug him and be by his side for the needless war. He clutched the letters to his chest and felt the pain anew every time they slipped the tan paper under the bars of his cell.

The floors were dirt, the walls were wood, and the ceiling was the stone of the building he was hidden beneath. He grew to memorize these walls as much as he had that of the castle. He would often trace his fingers over the compact dirt of the walls and pretend he was writing his letters back. He would’ve written how he was never mad. How his mother had sent him away and how he missed him so. He was unable to write any of that. Time grew on and the letters hurt worse and Ethan looked worse. He was so frail now, wrists as skinny as they had been when he arrived at the castle. The reality that he would never again see Mark or perhaps even his own family shattered what remained of his soul. Then the last letter came. It spoke of the year that had passed, how they said the village above him had been destroyed and how Mark assumed Ethan was dead. It was surreal to read and filled him with a deep anger and a deep desperation. He was unshackled now, and he found himself rising to his feet, his thin frame shaking and grabbing at the bars screaming. There was very little left in him and he gave it all, crying, screaming, and shaking the bars so loud the knight on duty rushed into the cell to quiet him. 

As the knight attempted to restrain him and reshackle him, Ethan kicked and screamed and clutched his eyes shut until suddenly the grip around his wrists dropped and the knight seemed to fall lifeless on top of him. As the air was kicked out of him, Ethan’s eyes flung open to see a knight with a large club standing above the servant crushed beneath the other. He wasn’t sure what to make of anything in the chaos but he wiggled out from under the knight as the one standing removed his helmet and dropped it to the ground

“We don’t have much time,” Tyler whispered, crouching down to extend a hand. “We need to run.”

And they did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much is to come, but it's starting to look better


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the wait and Im glad to finally be pushing out a long chapter (the chapter was originally 10k but dragged on a long time so I split this into like 6k and then ill build on the second half of that chapter for the following update. :) Hope you guys enjoy

Light had flitted through into the cell beneath the ground as much as it could, but never to the full brightness it had been above the ground. Bursting up through the staircase with the tight grip of the noble pulling him along, the sun shattered Ethan’s vision. It was the starting of winter again, just like it had been when he had woken up in that cell. The wind blew flaking snow into the prisoner’s eyes and the first light of a year burned the man’s irises. He was acutely aware of the bitter cold of the snow wetting the hems of his dirty pants. The feeling of sun on the back of his neck as Tyler jerked him around was like a lukewarm blanket after being in the cold all day. His skin had grown so pale in the darkness and like a flower after winter it felt like the first true meal he’s had in months. The light, however beautiful, was still excruciating as he attempted to squint his eyes open enough to see where he was stumbling under Tyler’s guide. The Post was similar to how he remembered, but much heavily fortified and there was the stench of death from a location Ethan could not spot. The War had begun without Ethan.

“How did you find me?” Ethan asked, the running and burning of the light exhausting him without much of a warning. The last time he saw this place was a year ago with a arrow embedded in the back of his shoulder and his face breathless in the snow as everything drained away. 

Tyler shushed him as he ducked them behind a small wall, a small cling of armour sounding just a few feet away. The noble turned to him, the armour somehow looking noble-like when on the man’s frame even with his curly brown hair matted to his forehead with sweat and melting snow. “I am sure you have a million questions Ethan Nestor but if we are to escape I cannot answer those now. Once this knight passes, we will slip,” He paused around the wall towards what Ethan remembered as the tailor’s shop his mother worked at. His mother. Oh he would give anything to feel the warmth of her hug or perhaps even the I-told-you-so quip of her words. “Behind there. We need to head north but we can head into the forest East and work our way North. Less watchman on the East.”

Ethan found it in him to nod and brace for the next sprint. The life of high action and no context was beginning to settle into him. The man would get the answers he needed soon as long as Tyler could keep him alive. At this point this could be a trap and Ethan would fall for it all in because the temptation of freedom was too great to deny himself. When the sounds of walking subsided and Tyler’s shoulders seemed to drop their tension, Tyler ushered them around the corner. It seemed Tyler had spent some time here just as Ethan had. So many questions he needed to ask but now was the time to be patient. Keeping near to the wooden wall of the main office behind them, the moved around until they could better see the tailor’s tent. The fabrics of gold and a stained white was such a stark difference from the muted greys and browns he had become used to waking up to. His eyes were better adjusting to the light but Tyler didn’t need to drag his arm to guide him anymore.

“Keep low. It won’t be too long before they realize you are missing. You are just about the last thing they want to deal with right now so I doubt they will bother with imprisonment at this point.” Tyler never seemed to shy away from blunt honesty even as they attempted to escape the Post. Ethan did not respond but nodded, following the man who managed to keep the clinking of his armour down to a bare minimum. The Post seemed dead today, not many voices other than faint sounds of an anvil being hit and unintelligible murmuring from every which direction. He wondered how many had died since he had been locked away. Ethan rubbed at his sore eyes with his dirt-stained hands and decided that we shouldn’t dwell on that right now. They weaved around the side of the building and reached the only main path standing in their way. There were a few passersby that didn’t spot them behind a wagon and a few barrels. Ethan scanned the world around him to see more unfamiliar tents, lots of unfamiliar faces, and that stench from earlier getting stronger with each step. Snow and dirt were the composition of the floor now just as it had then, lines across the paths showed traffic of wagon and horse alike, the Post had seemed to become a hub during the war. When the coast was clear enough, Tyler ushered them on, urging Ethan to obstruct his face as much as possible.

Ethan tucked his chin into his tattered shirt in attempts to appear just cold, which he was, but it aided in casting his face below where others could see. Tyler walked behind him, fitting in at least somewhat better than the prisoner did. A few tailors walked opposite of them, their long white gowns barely dragging above the path beneath their feet as their grey overcoats clung to their frail arms as if a blanket sewed in place. Tyler gave them a nod and the two girls smiled. Their golden hair braided back into a crown just as Amy had done filled his heart with a small seed of sorrow. Soon he may see them again if the god’s favor had kept them alive. They pressed on through the street with no more mind of the young women who’s mere passing left Ethan will the edge of hollowness in his heart. 

The source of the stench soon became clear as right next to the tailor's tent there was a makeshift tent of sorts set up that looked like a tapestry made of sewn tents identical to the ones Ethan had lived in upon arriving. It reeked of everything foul of war and of pure sin. Honestly, Ethan was sure he likely smelled the same as that tent. “God’s bone’s, it smells horrid.”

“That’s where they keep the bodies,” Tyler’s hushed tone set the mood more than the corpses did. “Hundreds on this front. Hundreds on all the others. It has been a hellish year Ethan Nestor.” The two said nothing more as they walked around the tent and Ethan urged his stomach not to lose anything he didn’t have to give. The feeling of loss only further set into his stomach.

“Are they okay? My friends?” It was the first question he had allowed himself to ask before their escape. 

Tyler must have sensed the tension in his voice and the ache behind his eyes and as they finished their crossing of the street, the noble nodded. “They are alright. Wade was injured in battle gravely but has recovered well. Without an arm he still fights better than half our soldiers. Mika is well, she has taken Madam Tracy’s place as Amy...Amy is engaged to marry the King.” Silence fell for a moment. “Felix is likely the most unaffected but he has found himself swung up with a noblewoman so he is managing.” Ethan found himself with a small smile for the first time in a long time. He would see them again. There was not much time for more so Ethan gave a nod of appreciation and let the warm words of his friends' safety melt the layer of melting snow encasing his arms. “Oh I do believe I forgot to mention one.” 

As he furrowed his eyebrows, Ethan turned to Tyler as they rounded the tailor’s tent. Who else was there? Another knight stood behind the tent and the man’s immediate instinct was to sprint the other way but an armoured hand grabbed his shoulder in assurance. They continued walking but Ethan’s shoulders never dropped from their tension, feet dragging lightly in the snow. The closer they got the knight began to take off the silver helmet encasing his face to show a man he had not seen for what had felt like a decade. “Bob?”

The kind smile of an old friend felt like more currency than what a King owned. “It’s been quite a minute has it not Ethan Nestor.” After all these years the man never lost his hearty build or his curly hair that sat trimmed atop his head. “Might I say you look like shit.”

“Benefits of being locked in a dungeon for a year,” Tyler laughed but his eyes never stopped scanning around them. The eastern towers were to their immediate right with the northern towers through town up ahead. 

Ethan found himself a small laugh that became a cough at the remarks. “Glad to see you too Bob.”

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but let’s press into the forest before we discuss.” A sharp yell rang through the air from the direction they had come and the trio immediately tensed. “By the sounds of that I do believe they have discovered someone missing. We need to go now.” There was not planning or further discussion. Bob and Tyler both grabbed Ethan’s shoulders like a ragdoll basically and took off sprinting. Ethan worried for the knights in the watchtowers but as they ran Ethan spared a glance behind to see the two spots vacated of where two knights should be. Two knights. Smart.

The forest was still quite a spring but the chaos of them discovering Ethan missing and an unconscious guard in his cell allowed for them to slip past the treeline in record time. If only Ethan had been given such grace as to be undetected in his first escape attempt. The forest was much more heavily snowed in then the rest, the deep greens poking out of the blanket of snow and the bark of the trees faded into a paler shade of brown from the biting cold. The crunch of snow and snapping of branches beneath their feet was quite loud and it was much harder to prevent the sound of clanking armour so as soon as they were deep in the underbrush, Bob and Tyler began to strip. Bob carried a satchel on his back to which he drew warmer clothes for the two undressed men. It would be a cold journey and a long one at that. At least they had a supply of bread and three canisters of water prepared.

“How long will the journey take?” Ethan asked as he watched Tyler shake off the chainmail gloves. 

“Two days, three if the snow and cold pick up any. This was done very much at the displeasure and well, unknowing of the kingdom.” Tyler had done this behind Utheral’s back? Ethan blinked in surprise but nodded.

“Does Mark know?” Ethan was more surprised as Tyler shook his head no without much more than a quick glance over to the boy standing beneath a large tree.

Bob pitched in then as he drew a long cloak over his shoulders and fastened it tight. “Mark thinks you are dead. The Queen has swept him until being willing to massacre towns in order to end the war. It’s irony in the worst sense. I was stationed here about 6 months after they locked you away. I heard crying from inside the tailor’s tent not but two months ago and found an old woman being consoled by the others. I recognized her as your mother and immediately began to speak with her.” Ethan’s eyes brightened at the word of his mother. “She had no idea what had become of you but that you were rumored to still be locked away in the camp.”

“That’s when I came to visit the Post. I simply came to canvas the needs of each Post on our warfront to gather information on needed resources as Mark had sent me to do. The newer maps no longer have this Post listed officially, as if attempted to wipe this place from general knowledge. I figure that was in an attempt to hide you and fit the narrative to our King that you are dead.” Tyler spoke now as he finished his own attire and cast the rest of the armour in the snow where it could not be found; at least not until summer anyway. “I spotted our friend here Bob a month ago outside the head office snooping at night.”

“I do not snoop! I investigate,” The larger man scoffed, crossing his arms with a playful smile.

Tyler waved him off and rolled his eyes, “Believe what you will oh Sir Knight. Anyway after I caught him Bob told me everything on a whim. Luckily for him his honesty was well placed and we worked together to find you. Now we need to bring you back to Mark and maybe we can bring an end to this war once and for all.”

Ethan was silent for a moment. Bushing a hand through his grease-slicked hair, the boy contemplated everything he had just been told. They had planned this out for a month. “Do they know of your disappearance?” 

Tyler frowned a bit before nodding, “They have declared me a defector as I have concealed my identity as this knight for the past week. Bob will be declared as such after the events of today find him missing. Please let us press on while we talk.”

The three men began walking north, shivering lightly in the cold and crunching the snow beneath their boots. “I may have started this war. As much as I wish to go home is it the wisest choice?” Ethan asked softly, voice barely above the sound of the wind.

Nothing sounded for a moment, just the walking and quiet of the forest before Tyler spoke. “I worried of this myself. But this war has not ended in your absence as it had begun in your absence. I am no investigator like Bob is, but I do believe the split is what the Book regarded. The Queen was the true force of divide without realizing her own actions. Hate her as you will but she did was she thought best to preserve the world she knew. The Book spoke of her reading it’s own words and dividing the two of you. I do not know what divine intervention is at play, but you and the King are bound by fate.”

The words seeped into the servant’s skull and sat there for a moment. It would make sense but was it wishful thinking? What if the Queen was right and his arrival would worsen the war. “Wade has written to me since you left and since he’s been back to the castle after he lost his arm. Mark is miserable. He drinks and he fights and he scares the servants. Amy is the only one capable of reaching him the way you did and Wade said even that hardly works anymore. The fear he will become a heartless War King. This is a desperate hour. Thousands have died. You’re quite literally our last hope.” Bob’s words filled him with hope and further desperation to see Mark. To hold him as he did and as hold him as nobody else had the right to. Ethan was not a materialistic or possessive person, but Mark was his by birthright if nothing else could be taken away from the Book of Fate.

“Then we must hurry.” The three shared varying degrees of smiles but the common ground was relief. “Though he may not recognize me under all of this filth.”

Tyler gave a hearty laugh and shook his head, flinging snow from the curls as they walked. “We’ll find a river ahead to clean you up in. Hope you are fond of ice cold baths.’

The three men headed off towards the river as the sun began its descent further and the horizon began to hue of golds and oranges before later blasting into purples and fluorescent pinks worthy of a painting hung in the castle. The trees obscured most of the sky above but the rays still found their way through the branches. The world was beautiful, even more so than he remembered. 

The further they walked the more they ducked under the branches of trees and dying shrubbery as they attempted to keep a steady pace. They would soon search the forest for them and they weren’t even at the entrance they wanted to be in so they may have a head start if they searched the north entrance of the forest immediately. Unfortunately, they knew where Ethan would likely be heading given his absence. Other than the rustling of animals not yet in hibernation, the forest was quiet and almost serene; it almost distracted from the fact they were likely being actively hunted by an entire war station worth of knights. The closer they got to the north entrance of the forest the more noises they could hear from scouting troops and a river up ahead. Their head start seemed to pay off in getting towards the northern entrance faster than those searching for them, but they would need to keep moving through the night. The river was through clearing, rocks and snow making up a sort of bank for the flowing stream of cold dark grey water. The river round north and would be a good guide to getting back to Utheral. Ethan would clean himself off once they were a few miles in. 

Tyler tossed him a piece of bread to eat while they trekked and it was nice to have more than just bare minimum sloppy seconds. As light faded from the sky and the obstruction of light due to the trees, it got dark and very cold quite quickly. His breath began to billow in the air in front of him as he blocked out the cold; that skill had become quite useful during the heart of winter in that cell without as much as the clothes on his back. The servant wasn’t sure why he had never realized but they really, truly made no effort to keep him alive. They all but handed him a means of escape that he was too stubborn to take. Without the intervention of Bob and Tyler, Ethan had no idea how long he would have rotted away in that cell far from the light and everything he knew before he simply faded away completely. By the frailness of his ribs and the way he engulfed the bread like he would never eat another meal again, probably not much longer.

“It’s long into the night, we should likely rest here.” Tyler suggested, dropping down to sit on a fallen log alongside the riverbank. “We have a spare blanket for you Ethan so please wash yourself and we’ll build a fire to keep you warm for the night.” Bob set down his large pack and began to unload their supplies as Ethan took the liberty to take the few wary steps to the river’s edge and crouch down. His thighs shook with the effort but he reached down and scooped a handful of the war that bit at his fingertips. He ran the water on his opposite arm, using his thumb to move around the dirt like a lather of soap. It was cold outside and the water would definitely make it worse but even in the dark seeing his skin without a year’s worth of grime was a sight to behold. He was thankful neither of the men commented on his horrid stench. Perhaps they had adjusted to the smell of rotting corpses already with the tent of corpses in the Post. 

Ethan continued to rub at his skin more, scrubbing off months of dirt with gleeful intent. His green eyes flickered over the way he could see the pink arise in his knuckles from the cold. All that had been there before was brown smudges and flecks of black. He gently rubbed at his face, watching the water come back brown as it dripped off his face. The servant scrubbed harder and couldn’t stop himself from all but dunking his head in the water. He splashed it through his hair and ran his fingers through it like a comb. It was matted and long now, but he would be able to cut it and return it back to the kept and proper form soon if all went well. The two others had sparked a small fire behind him which helped him see a little better at the river’s edge. The water finally was not coming out brown every time he brought it up to clean his face, so he settled on finishing his arms. The cold eventually became too much and he scuttered back to the fire to warm up.

“I almost don’t recognize you now without all the mud on your face,” Bob teased as he took a bite out of an apple.

Ethan gave a fake laugh and curled up next to the fire once he was given his small brown wool blanket that was rather scratchy but between that and the fire it warmed what the river had cooled. It was a warmth he hadn’t felt since those hot days in summer and it was so nice with the cold of the air and the damp ground beneath him. “Go to sleep,” Tyler reassured as the laid across the fire from him. “Bob and I will take turns on watch. Get what rest you can.” So he closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the crackling before him and the first taste of freedom he had in a long time

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The fire had gone out at some point, which was likely a good idea since the smoke would likely cause alarm, but Ethan did find himself waking up to a shivering cold already. His lack of body weight lightly was a fault for his inability to retain heat, but they wrapped the three blankets around him to make a make-shift cloak for the journey. According to Bob they were still a day and a half out but if they made good pace that day they could be there by tomorrow evening. Packing up what few belongings scattered the site of the dead fire, they headed through more untouched snow towards Utheral thankful that the wind had yet to pick up.

Ethan yawned as they walked, which distracted him long enough to stumble here and there. The two other men were very kind to him but they were merciless teasers. “Who taught you to walk Ethan Nestor?” Bob had teased.

“Oh play nice Bob, the poor man was locked in a cellar for 12 months. Perhaps he simply forgot how to walk.” It was almost a genuine statement, but the ending quip wasn’t missed by Ethan nor Bob who both chuckled; Bob more so than Ethan.

Ethan groaned and made careful note to be more careful as he walked. “I am starting to believe maybe the cellar was a nicer experience than this rescue has been.” That earned him a laugh from the two men who also rolled their eyes in turn. It was nice to have this again. It wasn’t the same when there was the looming threat of capture, but it was nice to have familiar and safe faces when there had been everything but that for so long. 

The hills were the hardest part getting past. The thin man had very little muscle on his body and the nutrition from the bread and dried meat was only enough energy to go so far. Bob ended up carrying Ethan up the hills which slowed them down significantly. Thankfully the downward parts were the easiest and made up a little time where they had lost it. The jogged when Ethan had the strength and carried him at a speed walk when he didn’t. The reassured him they understood his predicament and that they were here to help him, but he still felt guilty for slowing them down. He was moderately angry at himself for not being able to outright sprint to Mark, but his body had been stripped of everything that made him. Soon, he would be back up to the strength and mass he had gained at the castle and he would be healthy again. The thought of roaming the castle freely again and eating alongside Mark felt like all the little hopeful dreams he had in the cellar where he daydreamed of what it would’ve been to have loved Mark to a great extent. Perhaps these would become more than just daydreams once they reached the castle.

Tyler informed them he was still labeled a defector and by now Bob as well. They would need to find a way to sneak inside the walls and inside the castle. 

“You don’t know how to get in?” Ethan said flatly, arms crossed against his chest as he walked.

“Well this was a very impromptu plan, we spent the month devising how to get you out of the cellar and how to time it correctly and where to go. There may have been some oversight.” Bob admitted as he shrugged, striding over a batch of shriveled shrubs on the ground before them.

Ethan shook his head. “That’s a bit more than an oversight. The walls are meant to keep everyone out and this is a time of war. They are probably more heavily fortified than normal, they won’t just let two defectors and a criminal to the throne room itself stride inside like noblemen.” 

Tyler nodded, “We are aware of this but it is too late to dwell on short-comings. We must plan our next move as we make our way towards it. It will be easier once we see what we are dealing with at the edge of the forest clearing nearest Utheral.”

As he nodded in agreement Ethan pitched in what his mother had informed him what had felt like decades ago. “Before I tried to escape, my mother told me of a passage she and the Queen had used to meet. If you can get me inside those walls, I can get us inside the castle into somewhere safe. She did not specify where it led, but it’s the only entrance that is not the front door.”

There seemed to be a rush of relief from Bob and Tyler from what Ethan could only guess was them no longer needing to plan a castle siege. It’ll be tricky getting through the city but it’s winter and the streets will likely be close to deserted as they always had been before. Assuming nothing had changed since he had been away from the city, but with the war Ethan was sure the nobles would want to sit in their high tower and not risk leaving the safety of their homes. A luxury they could not afford.

“They spoke of building another wall outside the city to protect the Outer-ring, was that ever done?” Ethan asked Tyler. The taller man looked hesitant to answer, his lips pursed as he let the silence and crunching of snow act as a forewarning of his words.

“No. Mark decided it was not worth the resources if the council would not let the people inside.” The words were like daggers to his heart.

Bob looked saddened by the news too. Ethan had nearly forgotten that Bob’s family and friends were all still there. The servant reached out and gave him as comforting of a touch he could as they speed walked through the snowy forest away from danger. “They are so vulnerable out there,” Bob whispered.

“Mark tried. The council would not see reason.” Ethan’s words were little comfort on the situation but the effort was acknowledged by both men nodding their heads.

Tyler ended the conversation by giving one final sentiment before they allowed a heavy silence to guide their steps as afternoon swung overhead, “Hopefully this war will be ended before the outer ring is laid to more waste than it already sits.”

The wind had unfortunately kicked up but the sun was a bit brighter today with less clouds. It shined and let Ethan see what he had cleaned off that night. There were still spots he missed and he could not dare to say what shape his face was in, but it was improvement beyond belief. Hopefully he would soon be able to change out of the brown ripped pants that encased his legs or the white undershirt that had become yellow and brown throughout the days. He looked like a prisoner in all senses, but he knew no crime other than existing. What a life he had been given. At very least, he was but a day from Utheral and would soon see the man who his thoughts dwindled to as a source of comfort every night. Things had changed, the last letter he had received just a day prior but the King had likely written it a month prior. Tyler had mentioned he was erratic and the people viewed him as cold. The servant thought back to the days in the first week of Ethan’s indenturement in which he met a Mark that the Mark he knew now would’ve hated, and he did hate him. Mark saw his flaws and worked harder than anyone to perfect them and become what others needed and what he saw he needed himself. The people did not need a War King, that is what his mother has convinced him he needed.

Tyler’s words from yesterday held some wait, she was doing what she needed to in order to secure her country, however, if the nobleman’s theory was correct then she inherently caused all of this. Her punishment for messing with the Book of Fate’s last words were the chaos that had befallen them. Ethan found himself hoping what the other had said was true. It was selfish in a way to risk that sort of chance in order to find an almost-lover but Ethan was tired of giving his way to others. He needed something, anything, and he would take this. He screamed in his head as he all but marched towards Utheral that this was his to take. The universe could no longer take what was his. But Ethan was just a small voice in a big universe with bigger problems.

The day was long and exhausting. They took breaks for food and to piss, but there was little more than the occasional playful banter and catching up as the sun creeped down. They had made fairly decent time and Tyler’s map had them placed but two miles short of the forest’s edge to Utheral. If it was up to Ethan’s heart they would have sprinted the two miles right then and there, but Ethan’s legs were calling the shots and they said he was going to lay down on that snowy floor and go to sleep. Bob built the fire as Ethan gnawed on some jerky, waiting for the warmth of the flames to convince him to shut his eyes and dream of the next day.

“When you see him, you will not like what you see.” Tyler had whispered later in the night, back against a tree trunk as he stared into the fire with an unreadable expression.

Ethan furrowed his eyebrows from where he lay and propped himself up on one elbow. “What do you mean/”

Blue eyes met green in a moment of silence before Tyler spoke again, a frown deep set all the way to his eyebrows. “When you see Mark tomorrow-”

“You meant if I see Mark tomorrow,” Ethan interrupted with an emphasis on if.

Tyler was quick to snap back, the bite to his words serious, “When you see Mark tomorrow, you will not like what you see. You will see a man manipulated into war and a man full of anger and rage. He held out for a long time and I think writing those letters to you helped for a bit. With hope. He’s different now. He will be through the roof to see you but when you see his actions, how he lives, and how he acts now, do not be surprised when you no longer like what you see. We have all seen the devil’s actions at work here, we have all had our cellar in different shapes.” 

Tyler was a serious man, but this was new from his time know the King's friend. The cold servant took the words to heart as quickly as the other had spoken them. There was loss and grief behind the noble’s eyes that Ethan knew he was being warned not to touch. What had everyone else gone through because of this war? Ethan nodded in response to Tyler and lowered himself back onto the ground. He found it a bit harder to sleep that night as he stared up through the cracks of the trees to see the stars above, but eventually even the stars sang him a lullaby woven of pity so he could find rest. Tyler’s words followed him into his sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We will be getting Mark and Ethan reunion next chapter so buckle up, what y'all think is going to happen ;)


End file.
